


Soul Eater: Troubled Souls - Act 2

by GradeAMasterpiece



Series: Novus Ordo Mundi saga [4]
Category: Soul Eater, Soul Eater Not!
Genre: Action/Adventure, Character Development, Comedy, Drama, Family, Friendship, Gen, Hope vs. Despair, Horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-09-13 18:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9135724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GradeAMasterpiece/pseuds/GradeAMasterpiece
Summary: New bonds have been made, and old ones are rekindled. All has been put into place, and now is the time to act. The battle between hope and hopelessness continues. Will hope triumph in the end and lead to be a better and brighter world? Or will despair be proven right and see all we know destroyed? Everybody shall be tested, no exceptions. Contains OC, fantasy violence, and strong language.





	1. A Summer to Remember: The Idol Speaks

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year (2016-2017), everyone. Let's kick things off right, huh? Guess what's back?
> 
> Welcome to the next installment of Soul Eater: Troubled Souls. I thank you for taking the time to read this story. This story has been up for quite some time, but for those just joining in, let me lay down some things so that you know what this story entails
> 
> Chronology: This story borrows elments from both the anime and the manga. Act 1 of Soul Eater: Troubled Souls takes place after the Baba Yaga Castle arc, incorporating elements from both the anime and Manga versions of that arc, and goes on from there. This one, Act 2, is a direct continuation of Act 1.
> 
> Setting: We all know where Soul Eater takes place. I'm moreso telling readers that this story will expand the universe of Soul Eater, covering vague things touched upon in the source material and adding my own bits of history to it.
> 
> Forewarning: The story will contain the following: instances of strong violence, humor ranging from childish to young adult, strong language, and the prevalence of OCs. In addition, both OCs and canon characters will learn some things (techniques, history, etc.) not present in canon. If it's fair game in canon, it is here. Remember that Soul Eater is an action/fantasy/horror/comedy shonen, so that's quite a bit of wiggle room.
> 
> While I believe the first arc and maybe the second will be newcomer-friendly, you're eventually going to have read Act 1 because it has things like explanations, major events, and cross-act foreshadowing.
> 
> Now then, let's kick things off with the "Monotone Princess arc."
> 
> Disclaimer: Soul Eater is copyrighted to Atsushi Okubo and all other third parties (characters, series, and concepts). I and HopeDiamond101 of DeviantArt claim no ownership to it. We do, however, own the original characters and content presented in this story.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's summer vacation for everyone at the Academy, meaning many of the people we know have left for a breather. Some did stay because the forces of evil do not rest. Indeed, something else is lying around the corner. Beginning of the Monotone Princess arc.

_Not everyone will agree with your ideals, so what will you do?_

* * *

 

 **A Summer to Remember: The Idol Speaks**  
  
_Month 5, Week 4, Day 1 (Monday, May 30th)_  
  
‘A lot’s happened in the past couple of months.’  
  
‘After Christmas Break, I met this guy named Caius partnered with Claudia, someone I already knew. While I was cautious at first, I warmed up to him and eventually saw he was hiding something. I found out what at Venice, Italy where I met Cancer Lucrenian and Project Omega for the first time. He was hurting, trying to live a broken life. Me, Soul, and Claudia got him out of it. Then, we beat Cancer for the first time. But if it wasn’t for Joint Resonance, a technique taught by Correctional Class teacher Noel Ricardsen, we'd be dead.’  
  
‘School went on like normal. I met new people, like Rowena and Tsuji, twins of Noel, until something out of nowhere happened. My friends and I were fooled into going on a mission on Cobra Island. What we thought was a simple mission was actually an old foe, Medusa, setting a trap for us. As she played with us, her younger sister Shaula attacked our home. Despite all the danger and close calls, we survived. Crona even finally settled things with Medusa. I couldn't be any happier!’  
  
‘Things didn’t really slow down afterwards. Tsuji and Marcellus were going through troubles of their own. Turns out Marcellus’s parents, Portis and Morgan of the Chicago Gang, found out where he was since leaving them and tried to bring him home. Meanwhile, Tsuji was struggling with inner turmoil and his new Enchanted Eyes. The guy almost died in front of us… Which was enough to make Marcellus go home for his sake. Then, things led everyone to Chicago where Cancer returned and unleashed Project Omega again. Thankfully, everything turned out all right. The bad guys were stopped, everyone recovered, and all was well again!’  
  
‘And how’d things change for me?’  
  
…  
  
‘I hope nothing…’  


* * *

  
  
Maka ducked behind a pillar, the needles sticking into the surface on the other side. She brushed her bangs out of the way, panting heavily. Every time she saw one of those needles, a spot on her body pulsed with phantom pain, and she knew it well. Taking a deep breath to collect herself, Maka gripped her scythe tighter.  
  
She sprinted back out, sidestepping the immediate spray of organic spikes. She jumped on a foothold and used it to springboard over to the Kishin Egg. “Soul Resonance!” Her scythe illuminated in the darkness, turning into Majin Hunter. With a single stroke, she cleaved the creature in half.  
  
Soul returned to a human form and ate the Kishin Egg Soul in one gulp. “That’s that.” Putting his hands in his pockets, he tossed a grin to his partner. “Feels great getting ahead of the game.”  
  
Maka turned to him with a smile. “Sure does.” Their soul count rose to eighty-one. They were inching closer and closer to the coveted 99 mark. “The students who stay over summer vacation pick up the slack. Not that I’m complaining. I like doing my duty.”  
  
“You’d be the exception, Maka,” Soul said, “Just about everyone we know left for the summer. Kilik went home to check on his mom, Jacqueline’s gone to visit her folks, and Rowena said their dad’s taking them to visit their grandparents.”  
  
“And Claudia and her family went to France. She took Caius with her,” the Scythe Meister added in, “Only people I know who stayed are Blackstar, Tsubaki, Kid, Liz, Patty, Crona, and Kim.”  
  
Soul shrugged his shoulders. “Not that I blame them. It’s good to have a break from here every now and then.”  
  
Maka sighed. That one-week break they took after the semester ended was too short. “Yeah… Come on, Soul, let’s head back home.”  
  
The two started walking. Although she was doing her duty, Maka would be lying if she said she didn’t have an ulterior motive. With every win, every skill, she felt herself getting better, growing stronger. The Maka yesterday wasn’t enough anymore. Not with the new threats supplanting the old.  
  
Maka sighed again, hoping it went unheard by her partner. _“I think I’m becoming more and more like Blackstar.”_  


* * *

  
  
Mifune sat samurai-style in the middle of his dojo, all lights off save for the many candles alit. Meditating, his mind was at complete ease. None of the small noises distracted him or pulled him out of his zen. The only time he returned to reality was to check on his company – Hiro doing cleanup duty. The fourth time he checked, Hiro stood in front and bowed to signal he finished.  
  
“Excellent work,” Mifune said, getting up.  
  
“Not a problem, sir.” Hiro placed a hand on his neck and rolled it to relieve an arch. “This is pretty much the most I can do to help out anyway.”  
  
Raising an eyebrow, Mifune spat out the stick in his mouth into a trashcan. “What do you mean by that?”  
  
Hiro took a moment to gather his thoughts. He forgot Mifune was never around during his busboy days. Unlike the vast majority of Academy, Mifune saw him as another student. He cleared his throat and came clean. “I don't have any fancy fighting moves like everyone else, and I'm no tactician either. So I want to help with the things I do know how to do. And that's helping others.”  
  
“It's an admirable stance to take, to be certain,” Mifune said, “but you needn't be so humble.”  
  
Hiro sighed. “I dunno... it's just...”  
  
Mifune stepped a bit closer, staring down at the shorter male. “What would you say, then, if I offered to train you myself?”  
  
Hiro balked as if struck by a petrification spell. “W-What? No. No way.” He rapidly waved his hands and shook his head. “I-I-I couldn't. I can't be wasting your time training me, Sensei! You've got too much to do as it is!”  
  
Mifune raised one of his many katanas to Hiro’s neck, causing his face to turn blue and stop the flow of words. Forward, yes, but he wanted Hiro, a student of his, to understand things better. “If you won't accept training, Hiro, then yes, you will be too weak to fight. I'm giving you an opportunity to push past the barrier you believe holds you back.”  
  
Hiro swallowed thickly. “Lord Mifune...”  
  
Mifune sheathed his sword. “I see strength in you, Hiro. Even though you’re average at best compared to your peers, you stay around and try your best. You forge on ahead despite social pressure.” He placed a comforting hand on the blonde’s shoulder. “That speaks of a fierce determination to survive. I believe you can be trained.”  
  
“Even so, I...” Hiro hesitated. Although riddled with self-doubt about his failures, about how even his stint with Excalibur meant nothing, this is what he wanted. A chance to shine bright like a star and like a normal Academy student. “Oh, OK. I'll show you—and myself, I guess—I've got what it takes.” An ear-to-ear grin followed. “Thanks, Lord Mifune!”  
  
“We'll have you in fighting shape in no time.” The Sword God set down his box of katanas and headed to one of the walls of his dojo decorated with an assortment of swords. “Now tell me, what do you feel most comfortable wielding?  
  
Hiro cupped his chain, thinking. “Well, there was a time when I was using Excalibur.” He caught Mifune staring incredulously at him over his shoulder. “Uh, long story. Anyway, even though he basically makes you good, I still have some muscle memory. He was like an arming sword, but he was a little heavy for me.”  
  
Mifune glanced at the mentioned sword type, running his fingers along the sheathed blade. “The arming sword. A straight, double-edged blade to be used in one hand.” He took his hand away and walked to a different part of the wall. “First things first, let us play to your strengths. If an arming sword was too heavy, then try let’s lighter.” He grabbed a sword with a much thinner, almost wiry blade, with a basket hilt. “How about this? A rapier, a sword designed for rapid, fast-paced thrusts.”  
  
Hiro took the rapier in hand when Mifune relinquished it to him. The blonde gave it a few practice swings, testing its weight. “Wow, feels like I’m wearing a glove.”  
  
Mifune nodded. That was step one accomplished. He heard a creak and saw Angela peeking in through the door. He looked back to Hiro. “I have to end this abruptly. I’ll give you some instructions to try out in the dojo and at home. Remember to keep attending Swordsmanship Club, understand?”  
  
Overcome with emotion, Hiro dropped down and hugged Mifune’s leg, streams of tears shooting from his eyes. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I’m eternally grateful!”  
  
Mifune deadpanned. “Um, yes. Recall when I told you sword-fighters don’t grovel?”  
  
“Sorry, sir!”  


* * *

  
  
Mifune awoke from his nap right when the flight attendant announced arrival in Chicago. He glanced out of the window beside him to see cranes all over a ruined sector of the port. _“They already started building the new base? Hm.”_ Noticing Angela in his lap still asleep, he gently shook her awake. “We’re here, Angela.”  
  
Soon, they left the airport, Angela taking her usual spot on his shoulders. Waiting for a cab, Mifune glanced upwards. Thanks to the change in seasons, the sky yet turned dark at dusk. _“If all goes well, we may be able to head back after this.”_ After flagging one down, they headed to the headquarters of Chicago Police Department.  
  
A room inside the precinct was dimly lit by the sole, overhanging light. Marlon sat handcuffed in the featureless, square room. When the door opened up, he peeked from below his brow, only to jerk up with a start at the sight of Mifune, Angela, and two bodyguards. “M-Mifune?”  
  
“Been a while.” Mifune sat in the chair opposite to his former employer. “When that Buttataki man mentioned your name, I had to come see you.”  
  
Marlon put up a mask, hoping to keep his emotions in check. “For what reason?”  
  
Mifune narrowed his eyes, Angela mimicking his expression. “My last mission under you. Why did you send me after Angela Leon?”  
  
The pasty man’s fingers twitched behind his back. Fate was cruel. Never once did he think that, after parting with Mifune, that job would be brought up again. “W-Well, you know, Mifune, that’s all in the past… I can hardly remember—”  
  
“Don’t lie to me,” Mifune interjected, “You worked under a gang, and I took up any job just to get coins to get by. There’s a reason why it’s called a ‘checkered past.’ The black and white makes you remember. It’s a color combination ingrained into your brain. Now, I ask again,” Mifune leaned in closer, staring at Marlon dead in his eyes. “Why?”  
  
“I-It’s not like I had a choice!” Marlon shook, almost convulsively. “It was the agent’s order that I passed on to your capable hands.”  
  
Mifune sat backwards, feeling no more need to be hostile. In all honesty, his strange reaction bothered him. “Then who was it? Who assigned you to capture Angela?”  
  
Marlon’s gaze fell, recalling the glowing eyes, grinning mug, and tan skin of the client. “It was…”  


* * *

  
  
“Worm moire grimoire.”  
  
The bell tolled at midnight. People, moving mindless yet free with prolonged gaits, flocked to Santa Mario Novella Basilica. The moonlight filtering in through the strain-glass windows, many gathered within the darkened building. The canvas of light colors did nothing to reveal their pastor to them, who stood behind the cloth-covered table, a sole red eye gleaming in the shadows.  
  
“Dear, lost souls,” his voice was measured, a far cry from the bombastic priests usually frequenting the church, “the day of salvation has arrived.”  
  
From between the pillars, cloaked men wearing antlike masks stepped out, carrying glowing cocoons. “Now, touch the light.” He raised his hands, the candles and moonlight forming a halo behind him. “That way, you souls will be cleansed inside and beautifully reborn!”  
  
A woman, swaying side-to-side, walked over to the nearest cocoon. The moment she raised her hand, silk peeled off the cocoon and probed her palm. The whole hand swelled with white veins. Then, her body glowed the same color as the cocoon, which pulled out her soul. She dropped lifeless to the floor. The man watched with a smirk as the whole hall filled with this same light, everyone’s soul stolen from them.  
  
_“They wouldn’t listen at first, so all it took was a little curse to get them to comply.”_ He watched as one body after another dropped to the floor. Soon enough, the whole procession had their souls taken by the cocoons.  
  
Just then, something fell from the ceiling and crash-landed in the middle. The dust dispersed to reveal a giant hunchback with eyes glowing as brightly as his. “Hey, you! What are you doing?”  
  
Unfazed, the man’s grin remained as strong as ever. “Oh? Who are you?”  
  
The hunchback looked around frantically, noticing all the dead bodies invading his private space. He locked gazes with the man at the altar. “This is my nirvana. Don't do whatever you please. I will eat your soul too!”  
  
His grin widened, amused. He knew exactly what that phrase meant. “Oh? Soul? Do you desire power?”  
  
“I... just want to be reborn.” He paused, bad memories dredging up. Memories of people calling him ugly, deformed, and throwing rocks at him. “Reborn...and I will make people who mock me pay!” With an echoing snap of his fingers, one of the mask wearers stepped up to the hunchback with a cocoon. He looked at it briefly before staring down the man at the altar once more. “What's that?”  
  
“Take it,” he said, “This is one of many things that will be offered to you.”  
  
An offering. The hunchback swallowed reflexively. “This? To me?”  
  
“Yes. If you wish to be reborn, this will help.”  
  
The giant man – or, rather, Evil Human – narrowed his good eye. “Are you telling the truth?”  
  
A warm smile. “But there is one condition.” He chose to ignore the question. He had already him in the palm of his hand. “For a soul to reborn, it will need many other souls to do so. Can you do it?”  
  
The hunchback had experience in the hunting and harvesting of souls. He was being asked to do something he was already good at it. The prospect of gaining enough power to be reborn as a being of higher power was that much closer. He nodded his assent. “I will do it! I will do it!” He took the cocoon from the lackey, but before he turned around to leave, he said, “T-Tell me. Your name.”  
  
“Noah.” The hunchback nodded and dashed out, sealing their partnership. Noah slowly raised both of his arms like a priest beckoning the spirits from beyond. “Now… Rise.”  
  
The dead bodies stood, ant masks replacing their faces.


	2. Oncoming Wrath: The Ants Obey Their Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paraponera prepares to strike while the Academy is understaffed. The next conflict has been set up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Soul Eater is copyrighted to Atsushi Okubo and all other third parties (characters, series, and concepts). I and HopeDiamond101 of DeviantArt claim no ownership to it. We do, however, own the original characters and content presented in this story.

**Oncoming Wrath: The Ants Obey Their Queen**  
  
 _Month 6, Week 1, Day 4 (Thursday, June 2nd)_  
  
The castle stood gaunt in the shell that was this hole—the gouge now a tomb. What was once a haven of steel and concrete was now a ruin, roofless and windowless, pounded by every rainstorm and snowfall that came since abandonment. The columns were the only complete thing, everything else had worn and crumbled - their decay the only marker of time in a place of uncounted days. Light shone in, illuminating the relics.   
  
Noah stepped inside, the daylight of early summer replaced by the shadows that cast the walls even more grey. He glanced at the floor. Long ago this floor must have been a polished marble. Now, there were patches that showed through the encroaching mud and leaf detritus. Kneeling down, Noah rested his hand on the aging concrete and studied it as if the random hairline cracks had meaning. His eyes flickered over to every Victorian feature he could see. “I believe this is the place.”  
  
Continuing down the path, he encountered a distinct pair of redwood doors, ‘LAB’ etched across the top. Noah grabbed the dual handles. The doors creaked open, the old and rusted hinges breaking the dead silence with the subtlety of an explosion.   
  
He ventured deeper, so much so Noah summoned shadow worms to brighten the path with purple light. His heavy, even-paced footballs echoed in the darkness. Noah glanced around, noticing the hall contained prison-like doors chained shut in the walls. The end had a much larger door, hanging by mere screws. “Hmph.” He kicked it down, and his worms slithered in to illuminate the way.  
  
Noah grinned. “There it is.”  
  
The room of gaping space housed a massive cannon lying on its side and covered in moss, rust, and dust. The man then observed the mechanical endoskeletons and toys littering the way to it. “Only one person with those kinds of tastes,” he said, stepping over them as he approached the weapon of mass destruction. One of his worms motioned him over to a spot. Once there, Noah noticed a distinct signature welded into the metal. Like the rest of the castle, it appeared to belong to someone from the Victorian era. Noah laughed. “The search is complete. This is it. The Soul Cannon, created by Witch Khadisha Lerner.” He opened the Book of Eibon and held it out. Like a black hole, the magical book sucked the Soul Cannon in with ease. Once was the capture was complete, he snapped it shut.   
  
“Time to head back before I’m missed.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Deep underground, ant soldiers worked like a true colony for their queen. They scurried about, taking up available space, some infringing upon another’s. Some almost skip, so exquisite is their joy of duty. Others walk as if they are boarding a badly kept bus, no more exciting than any other dull day-job. Then, there are the nervous ones, quick steps, everything about them tight and fearful.  
  
And all had stuff to clean with.   
  
The throne room of their leader was earthy and stony. All doors and pathways were dug into the earth by manual labor, as were the many stands of fine silk. Columns and arches decorating each door gave them a European feel. Even the stalactites up above were tended to. The Podium, an overhanging terrace, sat in the middle facing the main entrance. Ant soldiers brushed the bushels of silk keeping the whole setup in place with surgical care. The throne itself was vacant but shone in the light like polished diamonds.   
  
“Put your backs into it, ladies and gentlemen.” The order was so deadpan that, if it weren’t for the echo and lack of chatter, it could have been easily missed. “Her Highness will arrive soon and I want this place so clean you could eat dinner off it.”  
  
Right beneath the Podium, a teenager wearing typical janitor’s outfit, including a bandana, apron and gloves, finished his work of mopping and polishing the stone floor. He took off his ant mask, revealing a dusk mask as well, to examine his work. He could see his reflection in it, a complete picture of his narrow, dull blue eyes with dark circles under them.  
  
“I’m home, everyone!”  
  
Most of the personnel stopped what they were doing to see Noah waltzing in like an actor in a play, his ever-present smile on his face. Before anyone could pay their respects, a black and white blur raced from the higher levels of the throne room, leaving a thick dust trail in its wake, before stopping suddenly in front of Noah.   
  
Gopher bowed repeatedly, his lips bending to form an odd, V-shaped smile. “Master Noah! It’s so good to see you home!”   
  
Noah was numb to Gopher’s feelings. “I hope I wasn’t gone long. I had a few errands to take care of for Ponera.”  
  
Gopher stopped, his expression reverting to that of revulsion. He glimpsed the presently empty throne. “Oh. Yeah. Her. She’s not quite here—”  
  
He was silenced by a hard hit, flooring him instantly. Noah raised his eyebrow, watching the custodian place a goulash on Gopher’s back to keep him down and then use his mop to clean Gopher’s dirt-riddled shoes. He stopped momentarily to acknowledge Noah’s amused expression. “Oh, don’t mind me. Someone forgot he tracks mud in here every time. So I’m fixing that.”  
  
The lights in the throne room dimmed, spotlights illuminating the chair itself. The ant soldiers screeched and scrambled to get to the ground floor. The blue-eyed janitor took his leave as all filed in to greet their queen. From beyond the curtain of silk, a young lady stepped out. Everyone but Noah and Gopher, who was massaging his sore head, bowed in reverence to the Monotone Princess herself.  
  
Ponera glanced at the glowing cocoons occupying some of the spaces. A smile graced her pale features. “A lot more Soul Cocoons, I see. This is much better than last week.”  
  
Noah stepped out of the masses. “We redoubled our efforts. More are behind our cause.” He then crossed his arms. “Of course, the closer we get to completion, the likelier the Grim Reaper will learn of us.” His attempt to sound stern was betrayed by his grin.   
  
Ponera gripped the bug-shaped ragdoll in her arms tighter. “Let him. I dare him to oppose Paraponera.” She glanced at the Soul Cocoon nearest to her Podium. The glowing contents within throbbed like a heartbeat. “Soon, very soon, I won’t have any more to worry about.”  
  
Noah’s grin widened, holding up a hand as if he were proposing a toast. “To our eternal world.”  
  
A faint blush sweeping across her face, Ponera looked at Noah with a smile and returned the gesture. “To our eternal world.”  
  


* * *

  
  
In an abandoned town, Blackstar skulked around corner after corner, keeping his eyes and ears peeled. The target was around here somewhere, he could sense it. He held his ninja sword in a reverse grip, so at any given moment, he could kill in a single stab. With a sneer, Blackstar jumped up and into an open window. He searched around and saw nothing. He decided to use this cellar as cover, hurrying to the opposite side to look out that wall’s window. “Tch. I hope we didn’t lose that sucker.”  
  
“I hope not either.” Tsubaki’s voice reverberated from within her weapon form. “I didn’t see anything trailing behind.”  
  
Blackstar sighed, relaxed from his stance, and leaned against the wall for support. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll find it.” He tossed a grin at his ninja sword. “Don’t we always?”  
  
Tsubaki giggled. “Yeah, we do.” She mused. That was the wonderful thing about them being away from others. Even for a little while. When he was surrounded by his peers, he was the man who wanted to surpass the gods and let everyone know. But alone, with nobody to impress or strike fear into, he was more like his true self. While still the egotistical knucklehead that Tsubaki had come to know and adore, he was more relaxed and comfortable with himself. He didn't try show off – well, at least not like before – or go out of his way to impress her. There was nothing that he could do to make her think any less of him. He was just Blackstar.  
  
In the corner of his eyes, Blackstar saw something scurrying. He whirled his head toward the window and spotted the fleeing figure of his target. He smirked. “There you are.” Jumping out of the window, Blackstar sprang into action, moving quickly but silently like the howling wind. When the breeze settled, he struck, killing his target in one, unexpected blow. An Evil Soul floated out of the corpse, their first one in a while. “That’s—”  
  
“Blackstar! Watch out!”   
  
He whipped around, spotting another one of the cloaked crusaders rushing him. He strafed the first strike and responded with a Soul Force right to the chest, slaying it. Blackstar relaxed. “Thanks, Tsubaki.”  
  
“You’re welcome.” Tsubaki found this tragically ironic. Even when Blackstar did assassination right, he still gave away his location to the enemy. Pushing the matter aside, she absorbed the two Evil Souls. “And after all that trouble, there’s three more left.”  
  
Blackstar chuckled, unable to bring himself to share Tsubaki’s reservation. “No trouble at all. I could be here all day.” He ran off in the direction the second attacker came from. He spotted something in the horizon and went faster. His gaits slowed down once he made out the objects. “What the—?!” In the middle of a clearing, a person wearing an ant mask ripped out the Evil Soul from one of the final three Evil Humans. Blackstar gritted his teeth. Someone was stealing his kill. “Hey, you!”   
  
The masked stranger instinctively dove into the ground. Blackstar tried to pursue, but the hole magically closed up.   
  
Tsubaki’s reflection appeared on the blade of the ninja sword. “W-What on Earth was that?”  
  
Blackstar glanced at the vanishing bodies. “Whatever it was. Somebody back home is gonna want to know about this.”  
  


* * *

  
  
 _Month 6, Week 1, Day 5 (Friday, June 3rd)_  
  
The school hallway was different this season. Normally bustling with adolescents, teenagers, and adults meandering about, it looked abandoned. As Maka and Soul headed to Steins’ office, they noticed the hallway was broad and straight like an old canal that cut through a town, like Venice. The lack of occupancy made them realize how big the school really was. The floor was shinier too, just like the water in the mornings, brought to a high polish by a caretaker more inclined to come out and work. The only sounds were their echoing footsteps and the occasional murmur from fellow students in summer school and/or doing summer missions. The duo eventually arrived at Stein’s office, Maka knocking on the door.   
  
“It’s open,” Kid declared on the other side of the door to their mild surprise. Maka walked right in. Liz was in an armchair filing her nails, Patty balanced a cup of pens on her nose, and Kid sat beside the older Thompson with his fingers steepled. Kid acknowledged their arrival with a brief glance. “Top of the hour, you two.”  
  
“I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to school in the summer,” Soul said with a yawn, plopping down on the nearby couch.   
  
Liz momentarily stopped her nail filing. “You asked me, it’s better this way. The teachers are chiller, there are less headaches, and it’s easier to get through this maze we call a school.”  
  
Kid reclined to rest his back. “That last part surprises me a little. Students who stay over the summer to work get extra commission. I’d assume the money and benefits would be enough of an incentive.”  
  
Soul shook his head. “Nope. Those two months and a few weeks of downtime are hard to give up.”  
  
“That’s because we got better work ethic than all of them,” Blackstar declared, unceremoniously walking in with Tsubaki tailing him, “What’s up, guys?”  
  
“Good to see you,” Soul greeted, giving his friend a high-five when he came up.  
  
“You guys won’t believe the day I had yesterday." Blackstar folded his arms behind his head and propped himself against the wall. "I was taking care of business. Then, out of nowhere, this creep in a mask—”  
  
“Took my target’s soul.”  
  
Blackstar exchanged confused glances between Maka and Kid after they spoke at the same time as him. “What? You guys too?”  
  
Kid nodded. “Yes. In fact, that’s why Professor Stein called us here. I brought it to his attention when I got home.”   
  
Maka crossed her legs, drumming her finger against the armrest. Her gaze fell to the floor. "It's strange. I'm used to seeing things take innocent souls, but these guys are taking ones already corrupted. They're basically doing our job for us."  
  
"Isn't that the problem?" Liz stated, "Unless it's Academy, anyone taking souls means trouble."  
  
Tsubaki nodded. "Yes, Liz is absolutely right." She then felt a sudden impulse in her body. “If Dr. Stein comes, tell him I went to the bathroom.”   
  
Tsubaki excused herself and quickly headed to the nearest women’s restroom. The light in the bathroom was bright and sterile, lacking even a trace of warmth. Scrupulously clean, the mirror sparkled in the light. After taking care of business, Tsubaki turned on the facet, allowing the rush of water to fill her ears. It reminded her of the serenity of a flowing stream back in Japan. Waiting for it to warm up, she closed her eyes and hummed to herself a tune. With nobody else around, Tsubaki was at peace.   
  
“Why?”  
  
Tsubaki reopened her eyes with a start.  
  
In the mirror, Masamune was behind her.  
  
The Shadow Weapon whirled around and saw absolutely nothing. The restroom was empty, just like when she entered.  
  
“Why, Tsubaki?”  
  
Her brother’s deep yet anguished voice filled her ears. She could feel his rough fingers ghosting her soft face.   
  
“We could have been a family again. Why did you kill me?”  
  
The hot water irritating her hands, Tsubaki woke faster than a cat in ice water, eyes flung so wide each iris was a perfect orb of fear-filled indigo. At that moment, the young woman realized, the whole time, she held her breath. A few deep inhales later, her heartbeat slowed to normal. Backing away, Tsubaki buried her face in her hands. “M-Masamune…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Between deciding to novelize the Monotone Princess video game and finally getting to write it out, more and more information has come out about it. So, it turns out Ponera with a revenge-driven witch who is the last of her clan. So, in a story already with a few revenge-driven characters, I will try my hardest to make sure Ponera stands out.
> 
> Oh, and the “Monotone Princess” arc will focus on Blackstar (like how Cobra Island was for Crona and Chicago Gang was for Marcellus and Tsuji). Tsubaki is going to get a little attention, but not as much as Marcellus or even Ragnarok. I mean, heck, it was a challenge trying to find something to explore her character depths as is. But, luckily, I found it: guilt over killing her precious Masamune that she’s been hiding all this time.


	3. Origins of the Little Ones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kilik finally finds the lead he needed to discovering the mysterious past of Fire and Thunder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is something of an interlude. I’m going to cover what I had planned for Kilik, Pot of Fire and Pot of Thunder in this one. I must confess, Kilik is my second favorite character behind the inevitable Tsubaki, so I was looking forward to writing this even though I’m not exactly satisfied with the final product. Strange how things sound better in your head…

**Origins of the Little Ones**  
  
 _Month 6, Week 1, Day 6 (Saturday, June 4th)_  
  
In the Witch Countermeasures Headquarters, Akane and Clay sat a square table, discussing the files laid out before them while lapsing into menial talk every now and then. Akane leaned back, wooden chair creaking. “So those three went home for the summer? Where do they live?”  
  
“Dublin, Ireland.” Clay pointed at the information among the papers. “Their legal guardian is Ophelia Louisengale, a military advisor for the European division. She's a Demon Staff and graduated a Three-Star. Her one and only Meister as a student was Katrina Forsythia, later Katrina Vladingham. Ophelia is Portuguese.”  
  
Akane raised his mug of coffee to his lips and took a small sip. “What of their biological parents?”   
  
“All I got was their mother died of childbirth,” Clay answered, “The dad’s a mystery.”  
  
Akane chuckled, setting down the cup. “Well, looks like we got our work cut out for us.” The Hoshi child then heard a distant conversation outside the door. He and Clay scrambled to regather their papers of focus and put them in their proper files. The door opened, Sid and Stein walking in. Akane stood and bowed at the two teachers. “Good day, you two.”  
  
“Akane, Clay,” Sid said, setting down a clipboard on the table as Stein sat backwards in a chair, “Working hard or hardly working?”  
  
“I’m working hard." With his usual expression, Akane jabbed a thumb in his partner's direction. "Clay’s hardly working.”  
  
Clay's features tightened with frustration as he whirled around and shot a glare at him. “H-Hey!”   
  
Sid chuckled as he walked over to the bulletin board. "I hate to interrupt you, but this is important." He then tacked on several pictures to it. Akane and Clay looked more closely. Most of them were different shots of the ant soldiers everyone on campus gossiped about. The sole sketch grabbed their attention. A plain scribble of a distinct set of antennae. Sid stepped back and then said, "This is beginning to become an epidemic. Some students are concerned about these mysterious things. Others are complaining about how this undermines their duties. I agree with both sides, that's the kind of man I was."  
  
"What are they?" Akane asked, adjusting his glasses, "Did a Meister with Soul Perception check one of their souls?"  
  
"No," Stein answered, rolling over to the bulletin board. He placed another piece of paper on it. It showed a girl wearing bug-like crown on her of her short, dark hair. Two long pieces of hair extended from her bangs and hung low over her face. "See how this girl's crown matches their masks? Guess what? According to Lord Death, that's because they're connected."  
  
"Ponera, princess of the Paraponera Clan," Sid added in, "Her witch clan specialized in all sorts of insect-type magic. The Academy wiped out her clan in the endgame of the Period of Destruction by the Academy."  
  
Clay sighed, shaking his head. The setup seemed too familiar. "That's not good. She must be hatching plan to get back at us."  
  
"Lord Death thinks so too," Stein said, cranking his bolt, "He's already put Ponera Paraponera on his list. She's to be brought in dead or alive."  
  
Akane turned to Clay. "In that case, we'd better dismiss our duties to focus on the bigger picture." Receiving a nod from the Demon Longsword, the two hurried to the door. It opened. Akane stopped in time to avoid getting hit. "Oops! Pardon us, Mister Mifune!" He and Clay brushed past the entering samurai.  
  
"Good to see you, Mifune, Angela," Sid greeted. He noticed the young witch's disposition. She actually looked quite stern today. Curious, the zombie asked, "Everything all right?"  
  
"Well, sort of," Mifune replied, standing near the other men.  
  
Stein stopping turning his bolt, raising his eyebrow. "Sort of? What's going on?"  
  
"We found out who the meanie was that wanted my soul!" Angela blurted out, shaking her fists.   
  
Mifune sighed. "As Angela so eloquently put it…" He took this time to explain to Stein and Sid about his past, about the mission to capture Angela that changed his path in life, and about the meeting with the now incarcerated Marlon in Chicago. "-so, not sure if it warrants that much attention, but I'd like to keep an eye out for this Noah character. I want to know why he wanted Angela."  
  
Stein glanced at Sid, who stood there with an unreadable expression, likely deep in thought himself. The scientist then spoke, "That's odd. I don't recall cases where someone wants a Witch Soul other than for making Death Scythes. Arachne aside."  
  
"Witch Souls do contain magic energy and have transformative properties," Sid added in, "but Angela being so young and inexperienced, it still baffles me."  
  
"Hey! Don't call me inexperienced!" Angela interjected, moving up and down on Mifune's shoulders, "I'll have you know I can turn both myself and Mifune invisible. So there!" She ended her rebuttal by sticking out her tongue and blowing a raspberry, her hat mimicking her.   
  
Sid slapped his forehead and shook his head, Stein sniggering in the background.  
  


* * *

  
  
 _Month 6, Week 1, Day 7 (Sunday, June 5th)_  
  
The laptop laid on the old wooden benches, like slices of technology from some far flung extraterrestrial world meeting the hand hewn woodwork of the late nineteenth century. Like opposite worlds colliding. Connected to a printer, scanner, and a projector, the dark grey laptop was sleek and shiny, thinner than an average school textbook but contained the knowledge of a whole world, all at the click of a mouse and the touch of a button.  
  
And that was exactly what Kilik wanted.  
  
In the living room, he sat back in his chair, so deep in thought that the Pot Twins playing behind him and his mother's cooking meant nothing. He even shut the television off so he could concentrate better. Kilik skimmed the wealth of information laid out before him. _"Fire and Thunder came from Africa. Alexandre and Dengu said they were lost in a village. I found out a village was burned to the ground around that same time."_ Kilik turned to see them playing patty-cake. He smiled to himself. _"They don't know much about where they came from. So, it's up to me to find out. They deserve to know."_ He faced the laptop again and looked through the rest. No knew info popped up. _"Man, I haven't researched this hard since that winter paper! This is torture!"_  
  
“Kirikou, dinner is ready!”  
  
“Coming, Ma!” Deciding to take a break, Kilik minimized everything on-screen and stood from his seat. For right now, his mother deserved his attention. Ever since his dad left their lives, Kilik knew her mother was alone. That was why he took every moment to connect with her, to keep her company. He heard rapid scuttling and saw Fire and Thunder hurrying to the dining room. “Hey, you two! No running in the house!”   
  
Kilik followed behind them. The dining room was elegant in a minimalist sort of way, yet still an echo of the natural world. The table dominated the space, an elongated ellipse of oak with the raw bark at the edges. The chairs had come from the same tree, each one beautiful in its simplicity, all clean straight lines and high backs. The floor beneath it all was slate and with the cream walls and tall mullioned windows.  
  
Kilik’s mother, his spitting image down from cornrows to skin tone, finished placing pots on the table. Fire and Thunder already sat at elevated chairs, eager to eat. "Dinner is served."  
  
For several minutes, the four eat in silence, enjoying the food and one another's company. Eventually, Kilik's mother asked him about his research. He was glad to keep her posted.  
  
“Well, is there anyone there who can help?” She asked.   
  
“Other than the Death Scythe and Death Weapon Meister? Not really.”  
  
Then, it hit Kilik. There was that one girl, Krysa, that Medusa as a pawn on Cobra Island. She was taken back to her home in Africa. Now that he thought about it, he remembered Fire and Thunder making an offhand remark about her: _“Fire, doesn’t it feel like we’ve seen the pretty lady before?”_ Those happened for a reason. His mother was on to something.  
  
“Scratch that,” Kilik said, staring his mother down, “It’s hit or miss, but I think I got something.”  
  


* * *

  
  
 _Month 6, Week 2, Day 1 (Monday, June 6th)_  
  
It was a hunch, but it was better than nothing. The next day, Kilik used his DWMA privileges to take the next flight to Africa. Using buses and then carts, he and the Pot Twins reached the place Krysa was sent to, the Yufahla Village. After being dropped by at the bamboo gates marking the dirt trails, he and the children walked in. It was a juxtaposition between country town and African village. They passed the greengrocer with his window full of apples and oranges. Then the butcher with his bloody lumps of meat on display and naked chickens hanging up. Then, the small bank, the grocery store, the electrical shop, and finally the other side of the village.   
  
Now with an idea of the village's structure and size, Kilik stopped walking and stared out to the narrow country road leading to the horizon. “Now, where to start?”  
  
Just then, footsteps and a resounding ‘ah’ caught the trio’s attention. Turning around, Kilik, Fire, and Thunder saw of the natives gathering around. Then, they started chanting in a musical fashion. The three stood dumbfound during what they guessed was a welcoming in their language.   
  
“Um… Hello?” Kilik said, frozen in his spot. _“If they did this in the village, I wonder how many odds looks they’d get.”_  
  
“Gurzil and Shango.”   
  
The voice was like sandpaper against Kilik’s skin. Looking behind him, he saw a man wearing tapestry weave patterned cloth. His grey beard reached his ankles, and the gold jewelry around his neck and arms almost blinded him in the bright sunlight. He was hunched over, too, to the point Kilik suspected his cane, topped by the skull of a bull, was there to make sure he didn't fall over. Kilik shifted his focus to the young girl standing beside him. Her red, off-the-shoulder dress bore the same patterns as the old man, which looked out-of-place with her washed-out jeans and gladiator sandals—a juxtaposition between tribal and modern like the rest of the Yufahla Village.  
  
Thunder huddled behind Kilik’s leg, bringing him back to reality. “Um, mister? Who are you talking about?”  
  
“Nice to meet you all again,” the girl said, smiling. The welcoming committee quieted down, “Welcome to the Yufahla Village, Malawi. My name is Krysa Salamu. This is my father, Arva the Umbra Sage.”  
  
“Okay, I’m gonna have to stop you there,” Kilik said, holding up a hand, “you namedropped several things I know nothing about that.”   
  
“Excuse our suddenness.” Arva motioned the natives to disperse. When they left, Kilik and the Pot Twins relaxed. Arva began walking back towards the village, everyone following him. “Let us start from the beginning. I, Arva, am the chieftain of this village. I am grateful the Academy found my daughter and brought her back from Medusa Gorgon’s clutches. You see, she infiltrated our peaceful land and took Krysa away from us.” Arva and Krysa’s gaze dropped as the former’s voice did as well. A brief silence befell before he continued, “My wife, rest her soul, was an unfortunate obstacle in her path.”  
  
 _“So that was a moment of silence.”_ Kilik stiffened like when he confronted someone he hated. _“Good riddance.”_  
  
The Umbra Sage lifted his head and smiled at Kilik, reassuring and relaxing him. “So, I cannot stress enough you all have my eternal gratitude.” Passing by some huts, Arva tapped his cane on the ground loud enough to catch some of the natives’ attention and said something in his tongue. When they resumed walking, a few priests joined the trek.  
  
Fire and his sister stayed close to Kilik, looking around constantly as if a stranger would come out and get them. “W-Where are we going?”  
  
“To the shrine of Gurzil and Shango,” Krysa answered. She and the Umbra Sage strayed from the main path, heading into the jungle by a trail of stones. “The Yufahla Village is dedicated to the commemoration of many, many religions all throughout the country. While the village itself may have modernized, the culture has stayed the same.”  
  
Kilik moved shoot upon shoot of leaves out of his face, already feeling imaginary itches running down his neck. “So, religion is a big thing here, huh?”   
  
“Indeed,” Arva said, leading the group to a clearing flanked on either side by wooden pillars. Brass, stone, and wood made up the small shrine up farther ahead. Despite the crude elements, Kilik and the Pot Twins stopped and looked in awe. A diffuse bluish light was beaming through the pillared alley, which made an eerie contrast with the white halo beaming from the brass sculpture on the central altar. The fragrance of incense was heavy and the sound of chimes could be heard in the distance. Arva stopped walking too and turned to the gathering. “Some faiths are more important than others, and that is solely because their gods do exist.”  
  
Kilik tore his gaze from the shrine and to the Umbra Sage. “Really? Like who?” Kilik knew he lived in a polytheistic world. There were lesser demigods like ones he heard in lore. Lord Death and Kid were important “true gods.” All of them existed alongside the God, who was the greatest. _“Wonder where these ‘gods’ fit on the food chain.”_  
  
“Gurzil and Shango.” Arva gestured to the twins clinging to the Pot Meister’s legs. “Those two.”  
  
The Pot Twins looked at each other, then back at the Umbra Sage, and pointed at themselves. “Us?”  
  
Kilik froze, staring ahead with an open mouth and raised eyebrows. “Th-Them?!” Surprise then gave way to confusion—Kilik tensed up, balling his fists. “H-Hold on a second! That can’t be right. Why should I believe you?”  
  
“My father, as the Umbra Sage, can commune with the gods through this shrine. He was gifted with divine sight,” Krysa explained, “That’s how he can tell the young ones are descendants, mortal reincarnations, of Gurzil and Shango. I'm his successor, so I can too to a limited extent. We've spoken to Gurzil and Shango before.”  
  
Fire titled his head. "Is that why I thought I knew you when I shouldn't?"  
  
“Gurzil, the sun god of the Huwwara people of Libya. Shango, the god of thunder and lightning of the Yoruba people of Nigeria.” Arva stared at the two children as they cowered behind their meister. Kilik recognized the glazed look in his eyes as someone using Soul Perception at school. “I can see it in their souls, I can feel their essence.”  
  
Kilik glanced upward, his mouth slightly open and loose. His eyes were fixed as if looking at something a yard behind the Umbra Sage’s head. “I-I don’t get it. I mean, I know they’re Earth Shamans and all that, and this sort of explains why, but… It’s just… hard to accept.”  
  
“If I may ask, young man, where did you find them?”  
  
“The Death Scythe of Africa found them in a burned-down village alone a couple years back,” Kilik replied, tone less hesistant now that he talked about something familiar.   
  
Much murmuring followed. With a raise of his hand, Arva silenced it. “I believe I understand what incident you are referring to. According to messengers, a man of powerful magic razed the village to the ground in hopes of discovering and claiming the power of Gurzil and Shango. Evidently, he was unsuccessful.”  
  
Krysa smiled. “It appears you two were in good fortune.”  
  
Fire held his head, groaning a little. “I don’t get it. My head hurts now.”  
  
“I’m confused,” Thunder said, staring off in the distance.   
  
“Perhaps it’s best I show you.” Arva glanced at Kilik. “As the Umbra Sage, little ones, I can expose you to the heritage you thought you never had.”  
  
Kneeling down, Kilik picked up the twins, hugging one in each arm for reassurance. Everything seemed so sudden, yet this was exactly what he searched for. He stared the Umbra Sage dead in his eyes. “Let’s do it. I came here during summer vacation to find out Fire and Thunder’s past. It’s time to see what this is all about.”  
  
“Let us begin then.”  
  
They walked closer to the shrine, and Kilik got a better look at the brass sculpture. It was actually a two-in-one model. The one on the left held a drum and draped in what appeared to be cloth. The other had the head of a bull and the body of a muscled man. Almost like a minotaur, Kilik noted. He set the children down, and the Umbra Sage ushered them closer to the shrine. Fire stood in front of the bull-shaped one while Thunder the clothed one.  
  
A frozen silence followed—no breathing, no wind, no nothing. Kilik shuffled nervously in his spot, watching Arva, Krysa, and the priests standing around with their chins raised. _“What’s going on—”_  
  
Krysa burst out into a chant in her native tongue. Two, drawn-out lines later, the priests took over, processing closer to the shrine and splitting into two groups. After a whole stanza, Krysa and Arva joined in. The statues glowed, one red and the other yellow. Out of nowhere, wisps like fireflies wafted in the air as the whole group reached a crescendo in their chanting.   
  
Kilik’s eyes wandered everywhere. The canopy above was distant like clouds of green. He watched the small lights dip and rise throughout the air, the trees, like freshly fallen rain seeping into the soil. Kilik was struck by a wish to melt in with it. Not to die, but to live forever amongst these ancient beings who graced land in which he stood. There was a sacredness here that transcended everyday concerns, casting them into the timelessness of forests, of oceans, of mountains.   
  
He looked forward and, around his young partners like a parental embrace, were spirits fashioned after the statue. The two were nuzzled by them, smiling like babies in deep slumber. Gone was their apprehension, for they almost looked comforted. “Gurzil and Shango hath blessed thee,” the Umbra Sage said as the chanting quieted down.   
  
As far as Kilik was concerned, that meant only one thing. “So, wait, are Fire and Thunder like… _gods_!?”  
  
Arva tapped his cane on the ground and everything went back to normal. “Do not fret. The children are still human. They simply possess the essence of a god within them, and it manifests in the form of their Earth Shaman abilities. If you allow me, I can bring out their hidden potential. It should aid all of you well in the coming battles.”  
  
Thunder hopped up and down. “Yeah, yeah! I want to help Kilik!”   
  
“Me too, me too!” Puffing his cheeks out, Fire placed fists on his hips and broadened his chest to appear big and tough. “So we can beat meanies like Medusa by ourselves next time!”   
  
Kilik laughed. “Well, you heard the kids. Let’s do it.”  
  
Arva slammed his cane, bringing all attention squarely to him. “Begin the preparations!”   
  
The tribe drew an intricate, circular insignia in the ground. The procession and Krysa held hands around this circle, heads bowed prayerfully. Kilik knelt behind the Pot Twins, hands on their shoulders for emotional support while Arva was in front, one hand on each head.   
  
“I who preserve their unspoken words, I who serve the divine will.” The Umbra Sage’s voice was lighter than air, softer than feathery down. The fireflies of light returned full force, swarming them in a celestial column. “By the spirits working for the highest power.” At the sage’s beck and call, the half of the lights turned orange and flew into Fire’s body while the other gold and into Thunder. Neither children flinched—it was as if the process was as natural and harmless as breathing. “Grant these young ones strength to fight off the everlasting evils.”  
  
With a sharp gasp, the children’s eyes glowed. Kilik tensed up, but the Umbra Sage gestured him to calm down. “May your souls stay the course and may the hope of the world live on.” Arva stood up right as the Pot Twins returned to normal. “It is finished.”   
  
Kilik turned his partners around. “How you feeling, you two?”  
  
“A little weird,” Fire said.   
  
“My tummy is all tingly,” Thunder stated.  
  
Kilik picked them and bowed his head in gratitude at the Umbra Sage. “Thanks for everything. It took a while, but we were able to find out the mystery of Fire and Thunder’s past. What can I do to pay you back?”  
  
“Nothing! He belongs to Master Noah now!”  
  
The person was like the swift, invisible wind, a predator that surpassed even the mightiest of birds of prey. It took Kilik a whole five seconds to register the sudden disappearance of Arva. Collective gasps forced him to look into the sky where an androgynous man with a pair of black wings had snatched up the Umbra Sage.   
  
“Father! NO!” Krysa screamed, reaching out to him, but held back by the other priests.  
  
“Get back here!” Kilik roared. The winged abductor disappeared into the trees. The African-Dominican Meister gnashed his together. “That little punk!”  
  
Thunder tugged at his shirt. “Wait, Kilik, we can catch up!” She looked at her twin brother and nodded. The two instantly transformed into gauntlets. “Link with me! Link with me!”   
  
_“Well, I guess we’re about to see what these babies can do.”_ Kilik took a deep breath as everyone around took cautious steps back. He held up one of his gauntlets. “Soul Resonance!”   
  
Bright energy exploded out of the gauntlet, thinning out into streams of lightening. Each one returned to Kilik, forming golden armor on parts of his body one-by-one. The rest of his body cloaked in golden electricity, Kilik was then garbed in a hood that went over his head and hung down in a curved loop with some segments of the hood separated. Finally, a cloth of energy stretched from one shoulder like a cape. “Soul Resonance, DOS: Drum of Shango!”  
  
The transformed Kilik looked at Krysa over his shoulder. “Hold up, Krysa! I’ll get your Dad back in a flash!”   
  
And in a flash, he was gone.   
  


* * *

  
  
Gopher giggled with utter glee as he neared the mountains, the black wings from his Grigori Soul flapping at a steady pace. A glazed look in his eyes, he imagined the many ways Noah would compliment him on a job well on this lucrative mission.   
  
“Tell me,” Arva spoke, his voice unchanged, “What are you plotting?”  
  
Fantasies interrupted, Gopher sneered. “Master Noah is attracted to power. More he collects, the closer he becomes a true god. The more unique, the better!” He gave the calm man a wicked, crooked smile. “You, my wondrous Umbra Sage, are next on his list. You’ll be taken into his Book, and all that mystical power will be his as long as you’re in it.”  
  
“Power without purpose is meaningless and wasteful,” the Umbra Sage said, “It will falter before those who fight with reason.”  
  
Gopher gritted his teeth, letting his impulse get the better of him. “I-I don’t know Master what Noah has planned! I just know he wants you! And maybe you’ll help him find those vessels of Gurzil and Shango too!” He looked forward and barely avoided some birds. Now, he kept his full attention on his flight path. “He went through all that trouble and none of the adults had it! How dare they waste his precious time and power.”  
  
Arva’s eyes went wide with realization. _“He is after the young ones as well! I cannot allow that.”_ Closer to the mountains, he sent another shrine in the distance in a clearing. Gopher slowed down. “Why? Why serve someone like him? I see dedication in your soul, so why not use it for good?”  
  
Gopher laughed. “Simple. Because Master Noah is my everything. He created me, so I serve him, and I will do it. I want him to please him because I want to be collected by him too! Master Noah is all I care about, so his enemies are my enemies! Now you ask too many questions, so just—”  
  
“Shut up!”  
  
Lighting flashed and, before either Gopher or Arva knew it, a metal fist planted itself in the former’s face. Screaming, Gopher was sent crashing down to the clearing. Arva was then caught in midair. Kilik smiled at the old man. “I gotcha, old man.”  
  
Arva smiled “Fantastic, young one.” It immediately disappeared. “But why are we plummeting?”  
  
Thunder shrieked, catching the Umbra Sage by surprise. “Kilik, you gotta keep running!”  
  
“Sorry, sorry!” Kilik resumed his sprinting, the lightning around him keeping him aloft, as he headed towards the ground at a steadier pace. “Still getting used to this!”   
  
Just as quickly as he was attacked, Gopher soared back into the air. “How dare you! I will not fail Master Noah!” Raising the arm where the wings came from, he fired black feathers with the same speed as a machine gun.  
  
“Hang on tight!” Kilik bolted down the air in zigzag pattern with the speed of an Olympic champion at the start gun. He sidestepped every shot and made to land safe and sound. He set down the Umbra Sage. “Better go run and hide out. I’ll take him.”  
  
“Good luck, young ones.” Arva bowed, showing respect to even someone so young. “May the gods bless you.”  
  
Gopher locked eyes with the fleeing Umbra Sage. “Where do you think you’re going on?!”  
  
“Hold on, man!” Kilik crouched down and broke out into a dead sprint, his aggressive footsteps like rumbles of thunder as he blocked Gopher’s path and literally ran circles around him. “This is between you and me!”   
  
Gritting his teeth, Gopher tried to take aim, but whenever he settled on one stop, Kilik long raced into another. He was trying to target a blur. “Hold still!”   
  
Kilik suddenly appeared behind Gopher, one hand raised above his head. “Can’t make me!” He delivered a karate chop to the back of Gopher’s head, the man screaming as he was shocked. The force of Kilik’s blow sent him plummeting back down to the clearing. “And stay down!” Kilik hustled to the ground, ready for whatever else Gopher had in store.   
  
Gopher pulled his head out of the ground and spat out all the soil that collected in his mouth. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he turned to glare at the Pot Meister. “You want to be like that? Fine, Master Noah gave me something for emergencies just like this.” Taking out a sheet of paper, Gopher tossed it into the air. “Come on out, King Kong!”  
  
The paper exploded into a shower of black fireworks, forcing Kilik to avert his eyes. The ground then shook violently, and he looked back at the object obscuring the sun. It had the face of a demonic gorilla. Its hair was black as night with red scars and eyes, and humongous, sharp teeth. The gems on its chest, hands, feet, and forehead were the unmistakable shade of blood.   
  
Kilik stared up the behemoth with his mouth wide open and arms hanging limp. “In what B-list film is _that_ King Kong?!”   
  
Gopher chortled. “Sic him, boy!”   
  
King Kong swiped its wide hand across the ground, uprooting tree and stone alike. Kilik traveled as a bolt of lightning, sprinting to the beast’s barrel chest and delivered a punch to the hide. King Kong huffed, glancing down to the flea trying to hurt it.   
  
Kilik glanced up, spikes of apprehension seizing his heart. “That’s not working.” He propelled himself away to miss the swat of the monster’s hand.   
  
“My turn! My turn!” Fire piped in, giggling.   
  
“Fire’s right.” Kilik and Thunder broke their resonance, causing the aura and armor of lightning to disappear. “We’re gonna need some stronger firepower to tame this beast.”   
  
“Soul Resonance, G-H: Gurzil Horns!”   
  
A torrent of fire rushed out of the other gauntlet, cloaking Fire’s entire body. The flames congealed into dark orange armor. The remainders formed a scarf and aura of pure red-hot fire. Vents were also on some parts of his body. Lastly, long horns stretched across his shoulders.  
  
King Kong raised its massive, beefy arm and slammed it down like a hammer. Kilik smirked. On impact, a surge of fire erupted beneath the simian monster. Beneath the limb, Kilik used one arm to keep himself from getting squashed. “I like to see Blackstar top what I’m doing today!”   
  
King Kong snatched away its arm and threw another punch. Kilik met it with a flaming fist. The force was enough to shatter the gem on the monster’s hand and scorch the whole appendage in a roaring blaze. King Kong released a skyward howl as it snatched back the burning stump. Grinning like a maniac, Kilik crouched and propelled himself at the primate’s chest. A giant jet of fire exploded out of King Kong’s back like an erupting volcano. The gems also shattered as fire plumed out of those spots.   
  
As King Kong collapsed, slowly eroded by the powerful fire, Gopher bit his top lip, forming a ridiculously pouty inverted-V face. His muffled screaming was still loud enough to be heard over the destruction of King Kong. He took out another sheet of paper and spirals began to consume him. “You’ll pay for this! Master Noah, forgive me for my failure!”   
  
Fire blew a raspberry. “And don’t come back!”  
  
Thunder pulled her eyelids down at the departing Gopher. “We’re going to tell Lord Death what happened here!”  
  
By the time the fire subsided, King Kong was nothing more than a Kishin Egg Soul that Thunder absorbed. Kilik deactivated his Soul Resonance. He shot his hands to his knees to keep himself up, sweating bullets and panting heavily.  
  
Fire’s reflection appeared on the backhand. “You think your mommy is going to believe all this?”  
  
Kilik chuckled weakly. “Doubt it. Heck, _I_ still can’t believe it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little overdue, but I managed to shell it out. Honestly, guys, no clue if I’ll be able to do the whole “one or two updates a week” thing I did last year. As of this year, I’m on a rotational schedule with my fanfics and works-in-progress. I don’t plan on deviating from it because, so far, it’s working like a charm for a multitasker like me. That and I noticed I focused on Soul Eater at the expense of everything else. A much easier class schedule certainly helps.
> 
> A minor announcement. In response to critiques from beta readers and editors from other works, starting next chapter, you’ll see my chapters formatted differently. It’s nothing too big. I’m in the process of making a couple of books to be published, one hopefully this year, and I wanted all of my works (official and otherwise) to reflect the new me.


	4. The Heroes Respond: Seek Out the Ant Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The DWMA begins its response to Paraponera's workings from the shadows. Meanwhile, Tsubaki isn't the only member of her duo facing an internal crisis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's official. The months of March and April are the bane of this story's existence. An unexpected hiatus happened in Act 1 and now Act 2. Not going to lie, it's probably because my interest is elsewhere (it's cyclic for me), but don't worry, guys, I won't ever abandon this story.
> 
> For a more in-depth explanation, please read the "Announcement" portion in my profile. Placing it here would bloat up the chapter far more than it should. You're not here for that. \
> 
> Enough of that, have an overdue chapter.

**The Heroes Respond: Seek Out the Ant Queen**  
  
_Month 6, Week 2, Day 4 (Thursday, June 9th)_  
  
Mifune swore to protect Angela forever and always. His lack of knowledge on the man, Noah, who schemed to have her soul was condemnable. He’d freely admit he was paranoid, but for good reason. If this Noah guy thought about it in the past, there’s no telling what he would do in the present. Mifune wanted to prepare for the worst case scenario.  
  
“But where to start?” He mused aloud, staring at his reflection in his katana. Then, soft knocks rapped on the dojo to his door. “Reveal yourself.” The doors creaked open ever so slightly and in came Crona, head down and barely able to keep eye contact with him. “You’re Crona, aren’t you? How can I help you?”  
  
“I-I wanted some advice on swordsmanship…”  
  
Despite the mumbling, Mifurne heard Crona loud and clear. “Explain.”  
  
Crona spoke louder. “The basics. I want to get better at the basics.”  
  
Uncrossing his legs, Mifune stood. “What’s wrong with your fundamentals? I’ve heard you’re a pretty good fighter.”  
  
“Ha!” Ragnarok emerged from Crona’s back and laid on top of Crona’s tousled hair. “Get real, Samurai. Sure, Crona can put up a good fight, but it’s only because of the Black Blood. Without that, Crona’s still a twig. You should see how he moves. It’s all jacked-up.” He ended his words with a couple of cackles.  
  
“Ragnarok!” Crona whined and pouted. “And here I thought you got nicer to me.”  
  
Ragnarok shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, hell, I’m just giving the samurai here an idea.”  
  
Perhaps teaching someone would either get his mind off the issue or give him an idea. Mifune paced around a little. “Fundamentals, huh?” Having never seen Crona in combat personally, he found himself at an impasse.  
  
That’s when the doors to the dojo unceremoniously flung open, followed by Hiro coming in carrying supplies for him. “Mr. Mifune, I’m back!”  
  
The light bulb went off in Mifune’s head. _“Perfect.”_ After accepting the items from Hiro and putting them away himself, Mifune said, “Hiro, stay a while. Crona here wants to work on his fundamentals, and you’re trying to improve your craft. Let’s help each other by sparring.”  
  
Ragnarok chortled condescendingly. “You mean Doormat here? I only seen you about three times and each time involved hauling junk for the fools around campus.”  
  
Hiro glared and pointed accusingly at the Demon Sword. “Hey! Don’t call me a doormat!” He then placed fists on his hips and puffed out his chest, making himself look bigger. “I’m Hiro the Brave, and I’ll be a great Meister in no time under Mr. Mifune’s tutelage!”  
  
Ragnarok faked a yawn. “You ain’t impressing no one, Busboy.”  
  
Once the two were set, Mifune brightened the lights of his dojo. Crona wielded Ragnarok while Hiro held the same rapier Mifune gave him. Mifune hoped the regular weapon wouldn’t break against the magical one—those things were expensive. The two fighters adopted fighting stances.  
  
“Chest up, Hiro,” Mifune ordered, “You too, Crona. You’re slouching a little.” Once the two made the adjustments, he raised his hand and brought it down. “Begin.”  
  
Neither made a move. Good, Mifune thought, that was the mark of a good fighter. Hiro’s blue eyes darted all over Crona’s figure. Then, out of nowhere, Crona lunged. Hiro’s eyes went wide and he barely leapt back to avoid the coming black sword. Head flying as his eyes locked on the ceiling, Hiro stumbled. His left foot slid on the floor and he braced the heel of his shoe against it.  
  
“Remember. Stance, Hiro,” Mifune said, “And, Crona, your swings have power, but the rest of your body is all over the place.”  
  
Crona was a fast-learner, managing to keep up the assault while still following his instructions. All Hiro could do was defend. That was the difference in their skill and experience — experience Mifune knew Hiro couldn't beat unless he could maximize whatever advantages he had.  
  
After almost making Hiro fall again, Mifune spotted Crona falling back into old habits. Evidently, Hiro did too. The sweeping kick that came from the blonde surprised him. Crona’s eyes bugged out after smacking the floor back-first. Hiro held the end of rapier to Crona’s face, smiling smugly and flipping some of his blond tresses. “Didn’t expect that, did you?”  
  
Crona blinked several times, silent, and then brought up the black sword in one, abrupt motion, blasting the rapier out of a shocked Hiro’s hand.  
  
Mifune refrained from smacking his forehead. _“We need to fix Hiro’s attitude as well.”_ He stood up before somebody got hurt. “I’ve seen enough. Here’s my assessment: Crona, your form needs work. We have to build up some muscle memory, and that’ll make you a far more efficient fighter. Hiro, I expect you to double your efforts. You’re getting there, but there’s still things to work on.”  
  
Hiro inched away from Crona while facing his master. “Yes, sir. I won’t give in!”  
  
The black sword disappeared from Crona’s grasp. “Muscle memory?”  
  
Ragnarok emerged from Crona’s back and took his usual spot. “It means we gotta whip your flaccid body into shape.”  
  
Mifune sighed while Hiro snickered at the Demon Weapon’s poor choice of words. “Hiro, you go on home.”  
  
Hiro quickly retrieved the rapier and bowed before leaving. Meanwhile, Crona stood there patiently, waiting for him to say something else. That was when a thought occurred to Mifune. “Crona,” he said, “I don’t meant to bring up bad memories, but what can you tell me about Witch Souls?”  
  
Even though he wasn’t asked the question, Ragnarok spoke, “I mean what _can_ be told? They got Magic and transformative stuff in ‘em. That’s how Arachne made Demon Weapons.”  
  
“So, they can be used to make whatever under the right conditions?” Mifune asked.  
  
Ragnarok shrugged. “I guess so, but Medusa and her family are really smart.”  
  
“Is something wrong, sir?” Crona asked, “Does it to have to do with that little girl always with you?”  
  
“Angela,” Mifune stated, “Yes, it does. I swore to be her guardian, so I want to better protect her. Having an idea of why people would want a Witch Soul would help.”  
  
Crona looked down, gnawing on its knuckles, before a smile broke out. Crona looked up at him. “There’s someone else you can ask, Mr. Mifune. Angela should know her.”  


* * *

  
  
Kim laid on the middle of her bed, legs draped over the edge and kicking idly. She reverently rubbed her fingers along the silken mattress, grumbling to herself. Summers were the worst. Jackie almost always went home to see her family, leaving Kim herself alone with no real home to go to.  
  
Home.  
  
Pressure built up in her Kim’s chest, making her feel sick in the stomach. This was one of the many times she felt homesick. While she never regretted leaving and oftentimes hated the Witch Society for its laws, she still held fond memories.  
  
...  
  
_A young Kim, wearing a simple dress and bloomers, skulked around her home’s gardens. Her pigtails as well as her tanuki ears bopped with each, peppy skip. “Come out, come out, wherever you are~” Soon, she came across a bush and saw someone's butt poking out of it. She covered her mouth to suppress her giggles and quietly sneaked up on it. Once she was close, she smacked the butt. “Got you!”  
  
Another girl jumped out and screamed. Her skin was the same brown color as the dahlias around her. Her black hair was decorated with beads and feathers, and she swore a black tube-top, a black and white skirt, and black sandals. She glared at Kim with her indigo eyes. “That hurt, Kimial!”  
  
Kimial giggled. “I'm sorry, Tazmina, but I couldn't help it. Your butt was sticking out.”  
  
Tazmina pouted. “That doesn't mean ya have to hit it so hard!”  
  
Kimial’s cheeks puffed out. “Oh, stop whining, you big baby!”  
  
“I'm not a big baby!”  
  
“Yes, you are!”  
  
“No, I'm not!”  
  
“Yes, you are!”  
  
“No, I'm not!”  
  
The two girls glared at each other for a moment but then stopped, bursting into fits of titters. Kimial threw her arm around her and said, “I cannot be mad at you forever.”  
  
“Neither can I!” Tazmina replied with a big, bright smile. “Hey, let's go see my sista.”  
  
“Okay!” Kim’s smile curved into something mischievous. By the way, your accent again.”  
  
A brief pause from Tazmina and then, “Leave ma accent alone!”  
  
_  
  
...  
  
Kim giggled lightly. “Oh, Tazmina, you doofus.” Her recollections ended when she heard low, repeated rumbling. She snatched up her phone from her bedside table and saw Jacqueline was calling. Perfect. She answered it and turned on the speakerphone. “Hey. How’s my favorite girl doing?”  
  
“Kim, I-I need some advice.”  
  
At Jacqueline’s suspiciously hushed tone of voice, Kim got rid of every lighthearted jape she thought of. “About what? Talk to me.”  
  
And so she did. Jacqueline told Kim how her summer went so far—the family got together, reconnected, and hung out in various outings. Overall, they were pleased with her performance at the DWMA. Eventually, Jackie confided in Kim the main reason for going home for summer vacation. “I’m just scared of what they may think. You know my family is traditional in every sense of the word!”  
  
Kim sat up straight, idly kicking her legs. “Jackie. Listen to me carefully now, this is important: Just. Talk. That’s it.”  
  
Jacqueline huffed. “Easier said than done.”  
  
Kim mockingly imitated her huff. “Then just do it. Get it off your chest.”  
  
Jacqueline made a brief sound over the line and then hummed in thought. Silence followed, and Kim waited patiently until her best friend sorted things out. “Why must this be so complicated?” Jacqueline groused, “I have to tell my family I go both ways, but…” A series of taps—Kim recognized the noise as nails drumming on a wood table. “There’s this guy I really like, so I wonder what’s the point of telling them in the first place…”  
  
Kim grinned wolfishly but suppressed the bubble of laughter building in her chest. “If this guy is who I think it is, he’d be saying the same thing I am. Just go for it.”  
  
“O-Okay.”  
  
“Oh, and Jackie?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
How Kim wished Jacqueline could see her smile. “I love you too. As a friend. You’re the first person who accepted me when I came to the Human World. You’re irreplaceable.”  
  
Jacqueline’s voice broke, choking on a sob. “K-Kim…”  
  
A rough knock sounded at her dorm room door. Perfect excuse to send Jackie on her way. “Now, go settle things with your folks. Call me later!” She hung on the phone, hopped out of bed, put on shorts and a bigger shirt to make herself presentable, and opened the door to reveal her surprise guest. “Mr. Mifune?”  
  
“Hello, Ms. Diehl,” Mifune greeted in an even tone, “Mind if we talk? Don’t worry, I didn’t sneak in. Ms. Misery knows I’m here.”  
  
“Um, okay.” Kim stepped aside to let the samurai and began to close the door. “So, what’s up, sir?”  
  
“I’ll be brief,” Mifune said, making a gesture for her to stop, “Tell me all you can about Witch Souls.”  
  
Kim crossed her arms, sinking to a hip. “Does this have to do with Angela?”  
  
Mifune suddenly stopped chewing on his straw, looking away. “Am I that transparent?”  
  
“Kind of.”  
  
Mifune scratched the back of his head through his admittedly long hair. “Well, to clarify, are Witch Souls that much more unique compared to Human Souls? Other than Magic itself, what can make them so desirable to someone other than a Demon Weapon trying to be a Death Scythe?”  
  
Kim didn’t peg herself a student at all. She and Kilik had that much in common, so it took her a little time to gather the right thoughts and properly convey them to the samurai. “See, Mr. Mifune, your question is more about basic phasmology than stuff about Witch Souls. Not only do souls in general give our bodies life, but they’re also a power generator. Of life-force, or soul, energy. That’s why you got things like Soul Force, Soul Resonance, and other stuff based on pure soul energy. The more pure a soul is, the stronger its life-force energy. Like in children, including witchlings like Angela. And different kinds of souls have other properties you probably know about now.”  
  
Mifune’s eyes drifted to the wall. “I see.”  
  
“Now can I ask a question?”  
  
His attention immediately returned to her. “Yes.”  
  
“Where is this coming from?” Kim asked.  
  
Mifune then explained, “According to my old boss, Marlon of the de Niro family, a man named Noah wanted me to capture Angela for him. Now, the two of us have been trying to figure out why someone would want a young Witch Soul. I think I’m putting the pieces together. For whatever reason, he wanted a young Witch Soul to empower _something_.”  
  
Kim nibbled on her lip, already picturing the myriad of ways that could go. “I hope it’s not anything too bad. We don’t need another threat.”  
  
She noticed Mifune’s hands unconsciously curling around his katana. “That we don’t.”  


* * *

  
  
_Month 6, Week 3, Day 4 (Thursday, June 16th)_  
  
Noah walked with his eternal grin plastered on his face. He retrieved the Soul Cannon, Ponera harvested cocoon after cocoon, and the stage was set to eliminate the DWMA and control the world once and for all. It was time to usher things in the direction he wanted. His shoes crunched against the earth within the dirt tunnel, soon replaced by tile.  
  
Upon the first click, the smiling Gopher appeared at his side. “Master Noah! There you are. How are you? Anything I can do right now?”  
  
“Nothing,” Noah replied, continuing his walk, “I am going to see our newest recruit.”  
  
Gopher fingered his chain for a moment before saying, “Oh. You mean the bell guy? Were you the one to give him shelter here?”  
  
“No, that was all Ponera’s doing.” Noah dipped his head slightly, thinking about Killbell’s rap-sheet so far. “He’s been a wonderful help. He’s going to outstrip Nals and Alone soon.”  
  
Gopher suddenly made an irritated grunt. “Have I been useful to you, Master Noah?”  
  
Noah stopped walking and stared at the androgynous fellow dead in the eyes. “I intended to create a Demon Tool Soldier to unquestioningly serve my needs, to help me collect everything in the world. A witchling’s soul, so impressionable, so easy to take, was best for the task.” He looked away, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Alas, that gangster never fulfilled my order, so I was stuck with scraps. That’s where you came from.”  
  
Gopher’s face about lit up like a Christmas tree. “Master Noah, you _do_ care about me!”  
  
A condescending laugh echoed behind them. “On the contrary, it means you’re a flawed specimen.”  
  
Noah briefly looked over his shoulder to see Ponera riding atop a queen ant monster. When she dismounted near them, it disappeared in magical light. Gopher grimaced. “Who asked you?”  
  
Ponera narrowed her eyes at Gopher, walking up to Noah’s opposite side. “Mind your tongue.” Her whole features softened as she gazed up to Noah as they all walked in tune. “Off to see Killbell too, Sir Noah?”  
  
“Indeed,” he replied, “I have another task for him.”  
  
“Do you?” She cradled her plush more snugly, a look of forlorn casting over as she looked away. “Please don’t run him ragged. He’s had it bad, and I fear he’ll attract the attention of the Grim Reaper.”  
  
“We’re going to attract his attention regardless,” Noah said matter-of-factly.  
  
“Yes, indeed,” Gopher piped in proudly, “Master Noah knows everything. He is our strategist after all. There’s no need to question his intentions, Princess.”  
  
Ponera once again glared at the Demon Tool Soldier. “Do not take that tone with me, peasant. You’d best remember your place. Also, you needn’t buzz around us.”  
  
Gopher returned the look. “Wherever Master Noah goes, I go. You’d best remember that.”  
  
The corner of the witch’s mouth curled evilly. “Let’s not forget who is in charge around here, _thing_.”  
  
Gopher released a gasp, almost missing a step. “H-How dare you! I’ll—”  
  
“Enough.” Noah spotted the iron doors leading to Killbell’s chambers. “We’re here.”  
  
The noise of their collective footfalls soon made their way from the hallway and into a room as Noah pushed the door to the giant's chambers opened, letting a small portion of light stream in, as Ponera headed to the sleeping giant’s bed. She placed her small, pale hands on one of his large shoulders before giving him a shake. “Killbell?” she said in a quiet, soothing voice, “Wake up. We have another assignment for you.”  
  
With a groan, Killbell stirred, sitting up, causing the bed beneath him to shake a bit. He his way off of the bed and onto his feet, standing before the three.  
  
"Princess Parasite? Sir Noah?" The hunchback greeted, voice gravelly and broken from sleep. "Is it time?"  
  
Noah smiled. “Indeed. We are to meet up with soldiers at an abandoned cottage and collect the cocoons. If follow you me, I’ll give you the specifics.”  
  
Killbell nodded and began to follow him. “Right.”  
  
“Don’t leave your bell behind.” Ponera pointed to the large golden object resting in the corner of the room. “You’ll need that in case of the Reaper’s lapdogs find you.”  
  
“Yes, ma’am.” Killbell nodded repeatedly, trudging over to his bell and hoisting it with one arm. “T-Trust me. I won’t let them beat me.  


* * *

  
  
Blackstar walked through the hall, heading to the Death Room with his hands behind his head and his gaits large. "Man, where is that jar? That thing helped during slow times like this.''  
  
Tsubaki was by his side like always. "Did you leave it at home or here?''  
  
''Dojo. Dang, probably shouldn't have done that." That's when Blackstar saw Kid up ahead. He was pretty attentive. "Yo, Kid!" He called out, running up to him as he turned around. “Kid, have you seen my jar?”  
  
Kid cupped his chin with an unfocused look. “Jar?”  
  
“Firstly, there's a navel on it,” Tsubaki explained.  
  
He shuddered, eyes going a bit wide. “What? A navel?”  
  
Tsubaki nodded, thinking as she talked. “And it has a pattern of several old men intertwined.”  
  
All of a sudden, Kid’s face turned paler than usual. “Old men... intertwined...”  
  
“I think there was also an old man with a barcode pattern—” She stopped when she noticed how off the Shinigami looked. He even was even clutching his own stomach, groaning. “Kid, what's wrong?  
  
He wobbled in his spot. “I'm feeling sick.”  
  
Tsubaki chucked sheepishly. “Sorry. I forgot about your… tendencies.”  
  
“I, uh, think I’ll find it on my own,” Blackstar said in a slow, uncertain tone.  
  
Wanting to change the topic for Kids’ sake, Tsubaki started walking again. “Let’s hurry and see what Lord Death wanted!”  
  
"Ah, yes." Kid was back to his normal, formal self. "I wonder what he wants, calling our team."  
  
Blackstar grinned as the three happened upon the entrance. "Hope it's a good mission. We haven't been on one in some time."  
  
"It might be about those ant guys now that I think about it." Kid held the door open for the two assassins. "Let's find out for sure."  
  
Maka, Soul, and the Thompsons were already there along with Stein, Sid, and Lord Death. Once all members of Team Maka stood in attention, Lord Death spoke, "Thank you all for coming. As you know, quite a bit of our EAT students are gone for the summer, leaving the ones remaining to pick up the slack. However, something has come up that warrants the attention of this particular team. You three, and several others, have spotted people with ant masks stealing all manner of souls. After doing some research, we believe we've traced back to the source."  
  
Sid pulled up a poster board that showed several pictures. "The closest match is Ponera Parasite, princess of the Paraponera Clan.''  
  
"Clan?" Tsubaki piped in, "The Witch Society has them too?"  
  
''Oh, but, of course," Lord Death answered, "The clan system started with Warlock Poseidon of the Lucrenian Clan.”  
  
Maka visibly tensed up at the clan name.  
  
''For context, the Paraponera Clan was wiped out at the end of the Period of Destruction when most of the fighting ceased for conspiring with remnants of the Immortal Clan," Stein explained, cranking his bolt.  
  
Soul rolled his eyes. "Sole survivor of a witch clan slaughter and we're to blame. Why does that sound familiar?"  
  
"We’re going to shut Ponera down all the same," Maka declared, "What’s the plan, sir?"  
  
"We’re following a lead in France," Lord Death answered, muting aside to show the Paris, France skyline. "Mysterious disappearances happened there like in a couple of other places, and someone detected a strange soul. I’m dispatching you guys to help the efforts in France. Two locations of interest are Notre Dame and Palais Garnier."  
  
"When do we leave?” Liz asked.  
  
"Immediately," Sid stated, "We're being proactive about this. There's such a thing as too many enemies, and the DWMA wants to focus more on Novus Paths and Arachnophobia."  
  
"Makes sense," Liz said, idly fiddling with strands of her long hair.  
  
Blackstar rolled his neck until it popped. "So what are we waiting for? Let's go crack some skulls. I've been itching to put some bad guys in their place!"  
  
Sid smiled. "An admirable stance to take, Blackstar. Glad to see you channeling energy like that."  
  
Blackstar clicked his tongue, indignantly looking away. "Yeah, yeah, don't have to tell me that, zombie dude."  
  
Patty pointed and laughed at him. “Hahaha! Blackstar, you’re such a tsundere~”  
  
“I don’t even know what that means!” Blackstar roared back, holding up a fist, “You tryin’ to call me stupid?! I’ll fight you here!”  


* * *

  
  
By the time Team Maka made it to France, it was the dead of night. Crickets chirped, the moon hung low, and the streetlights did little to mitigate the navy blue overpowering the streets. Kid, Liz, and Patty volunteered to check out the Palais Garnier, leaving Maka, Blackstar, Soul, and Tsubaki with Notre Dame. Maka and Soul stood in the middle of the street, the Scythe Meister with her eyes closed and fingertips together. She sighed and shook her head. “No good. I can't detect the strange soul or the wavelength described by the professor."  
  
Soul looked up and down the grand building and proceeded to stretch his legs. "Well, only one thing left to do. Time to get walking."  
  
"YAHOO!" Blackstar landed before them with a thud that made the ground quake. He posed dramatically, pointing at the sky. "The Great Blackstar has appeared on-stage! Maka, Soul, we’ll leave this to you. Let's go, Tsubaki!” He sprinted down the lane, leaving a trail of dust.  
  
Tsubaki faced Mata and soul to bow. "Sorry, you two. Good luck." She ran off in the same direction as her meister "Please wait up, Blackstar!"  
  
Soul waited until she was out of earshot. ''All things considered, if our target is using something like Soul Protect, they might find it first.''  
  
Maka sighed exasperatedly, heading to the stairs of Notre Dame. "Let's just get started."  


* * *

  
  
Blackstar and Tsubaki surveyed the surrounding area and settled on the one unused building. This abandoned building remained with the others because it was made of concrete – floor, roof, and ceiling. Only one of four glass windows remained, wavy and yellowed by time. The two entered through the open door, the light filtering through making the inside as navy and grey as the streets outside.  
  
Barely a couple of steps in, and the two heard the ceiling creak along with grumbling. Blackstar grinned and gestured up to Tsubaki, who nodded.  
  
In a small room at the very top of the roof, a hunchback laughed almost deliriously to himself. He cradled a glowing cocoon like it was a newborn. “My precious treasure. Just wait, I will gather more souls and give them to you.”  
  
The wall burst open. When the dust settled, Blackstar locked eyes with his target, chain-scythes on deck. “Blackstar has arrived! Bet you didn’t expect to see me, huh?”  
  
The hunchback rose, guarding the cocoon. “Who are you? Why are you bothering Killbell?”  
  
“Take a good guess, pal.”  
  
“I-I won’t hand over the souls!” Killbell reached for the bell behind the dilapidated bed. “That thing is my treasure! Leave or I’ll hurt you!” Blackstar simply laughed off the threat and beckoned Killbell with a gesture. The hunchback suddenly convulsed at the noise, releasing a mad roar as he charged. “STOP LAUGHING!”  
  
Shocked at the big man’s speed, Blackstar watched as Killbell brought his bell up, quickly tolling and rolling away before he struck the spot he had been standing. The floorboards undulated on impact like waves during a storm.  
  
“Careful, Blackstar,” Tsubaki said, “The floor’s unstable.”  
  
Although he took Tsubaki’s advice to heart, he couldn’t help but quip at Killbell. “You missed, freak!”  
  
That did little to slake Killbell’s sudden rush of anger. "SHUT UP!" Kill Bell roared, memories of jeering townspeople filling his head as he swung his bell forward. He quickly rolled aside again. He began ranting in his gravelly voice. "They hurt me! I try to hide, but they find me and make me ring those stupid bells! They say they wanted to be friends, but then they just laugh at me and hurt me more!” He then raised his bell above his head, swinging it around as a strange yellow energy began coursing from the bell.  
  
Blackstar balked at the hunchback's pained expression. "Y-Yo, you okay? Who's they?''  
  
"You're just like them! You're no better! I want all of you dead and gone so I can live in peace!" Killbell’s bell swings were wild and uncoordinated, allowing Blackstar every chance in the world to dodge. Yet, the sheer power of his swings splintered wood every time. Blackstar retaliated every time, but the Enchanted Sword barely scratched Killbell’s hide.  
  
“Blackstar, what are you doing?” Tsubaki questioned, "You're much faster and stronger than him! Take him out!"  
  
''I'm trying! "Blackstar bellowed, holding up the sword to block the bell, _"He's evil and the enemy. Lord Death wants him out, so I'm doing the right thing."_ That's when he remembered something from a prior mission. How a comrade claimed you couldn't judge someone one-dimensionally.  
  
Like he did just now.  
  
Blackstar lowered his guard. _''Right? "_  
  
"Look out!"  
  
If Blackstar's reflexes weren't up to par, Killbell would have flattened him: That was when the ubiquitous creaking turned into incessant groaning. The room swayed back and forth. Blackstar and Killbell struggled to keep their balance. The wood split into a network of veins, spewing dust and shoots into air as both males fell through. "I got you!” Shadows reached out to form a net to catch Blackstar. Hearing Killbell’s bellowing, Tsubaki did the same thing. "You can't escape now!”  


Killbell quickly regained his bearings. ‘‘So you think. She made sure I get to live!” Reaching into his pocket, Killbell tossed up some red powder that formed a magic circle around him. Even with Shadow Star enclosed around him, the powder teleported him right out of it.

“Oh, no... We lost him,” Tsubaki said in a grim tone.

  
  
Blackstar gritted his teeth. Never had he been ashamed to feel sympathy. “And we lost the fight too.''


	5. The Moral Grey: Where Emotions Flare the Highest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mission in France reaches its end as the DWMA comes this much closer to stopping Paraponera. Will their luck run out? Will the ultimate conflict be external or internal?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Soul Eater is copyrighted to Atsushi Okubo and all other third parties (characters, series, and concepts). I and HopeDiamond101 of DeviantArt claim no ownership to it. We do, however, own the original characters and content presented in this story.

**The Moral Grey: Where Emotions Flare the Highest**  
  
Rooted in his spot, Kid examined every inch of the opulent Palais Garnier with starry eyes. Its eclectic exterior ornamentation – from multicolored marble friezes, columns, and lavish statuary – were replicated on either side in perfect symmetry. He said no words, deeming even the greatest of adjectives to be folly in the face of the pinnacle of architecture. He then spotted the busts and gilded statues. _“My word, even them! Magnificent!”_  
  
“Kid.” Liz’s flat voice penetrated through his train of thoughts. She nudged him hard to finally get him out of his spot. “Are you done? We have work to do.”  
  
Kid whirled around to the older Thompson with a kid-in-the-candy-store expression. “Liz, do me a favor. Take out your phone and take a picture of me and this grand edifice.”  
  
Liz deadpanned, several strands of hair popping out of place. “Kid, we’re doing something.”  
  
Kid frowned. “Oh, come now. If this were a resort vacation, you’d ask the same of me or your sister.”  
  
Liz pressed her face against Kid’s, growling. “This is different!”  
  
“I don’t see anything different,” the Reaper calmly contested, looking off to the side.   
  
“Kid! Liz!”  
  
Patty ran up to the two, out of breath and blanched, which was a new type of expression on her usually sunny face. “Oh. Patty,” Liz said, “I was wondering where you pranced off.”  
  
Patty pointed elsewhere, unable to stay in one spot, as sweat formed around her brow out of nowhere. “Come quick! I saw those ant guys dragging off a girl!”  
  
Kid’s eyes widened. “What!? Show the way!”  
  
Patty led her sister and meister around the back of the grand opera house and inside. The corridors were ashen and barren, making their footfalls louder, matching the timing of their racing hearts. Panicked screaming in the distance eventually became their guide. It too grew louder the farther they traversed Palais Garnier. Finding a better source of light, Kid’s fist were tight balls as he ran toward it. _“What on Earth are they doing to her?!”_  
  
The trio reached the theater. The rows of seats on the main floor were carelessly flown astray to make room. Dead-center, a group of ant soldiers held down a struggling woman, but the main focus was the guy standing amid this strange ritual. Most of his face, including his blue hair, was obscured by a series of belts. With his black suit and white shirt, it looked like he worked here. His footsteps were slow, methodical, as he raised a blade fastened to his wrist by more belts. He gently caressed the woman’s cheek with the harmless flat side.   
  
“Do not worry,” he crooned, “I’ll make it quick and painless.”  
  
Kid saw enough. “Liz, Patty, weapon forms.” As soon as he felt the pistols in his hands, he fired one shot for each head. Although the belted man dodged his, the Paraponera foot soldiers died on the spot. He rushed over to the woman and stood in front of her as the belted man landed on stage. “I’m with the DWMA. Run and don’t look back!”  
  
Kid kept his eyes on the target, and it was a relief when the woman’s fleeing footfalls vanished. Now, he could focused entirely on him.  
  
“You there, good sir,” the belted man spoke, pointing at Kid with his blade, “What do you think you’re doing?”  
  
Kid aimed his pistols. “That’s my line.”  
  
The man smiled, lifting one hand to caress the side of his face hidden by belts. “I’m saving them from the evils of the world.” He started pacing around, swaying his blade like a conductor’s baton. “Death can be a beautiful thing. You’re no longer flesh and bone, but a part of the greater universe.” His hand then gripped the belts, and some of his hair, tightly as a hiss laced his genteel voice. “Nothing more can harm you. Your beauty is preserved.”  
  
“You know he’s got a point,” Liz mused, “My pillow gives me so many tangles in the morning.”  
  
“Liz. You aren’t helping.” Kid glared at the man. “You haven’t the right to judge.”  
  
The man’s smile widened to a deranged degree. “Au contraire, monsieur. I do.” He raised both of his hands, walking with exaggerated steps towards the edge of the step. “This used to be my domain. They all loved me, lauded me for my skill, beauty, and grace. And in one fell swoop…” He stepped off the stage, turning around so he landed flat on his back. Kid cringed at the thud. “A stage accident robbed me of my prized attribute.” Mad giggles suddenly came out of him as he lied there. “I killed that incompetent stage director… I killed everyone who called me ugly henceforth… And I killed all those beautiful people so they wouldn’t experience my pain.”  
  
Kid remained silent, yet he activated his Soul Perception. He didn’t possess a Kishin Egg Soul, and because his wasn’t as strong as Lord Death’s, so he couldn’t determine if he had an Evil Soul. However, Kid was smart—he could recognize the signs of madness and corruption anywhere. This guy ticked every mark. “Evil Human. I, Death the Kid, have come to end you swiftly on behalf of Death Weapon Meister Academy.”  
  
The man slowly stood back on his feet. “Death the Kid? Are you a Grim Reaper?”  
  
“The son of Lord Death,” Kid said, glancing to where the ant soldiers used to be, “Are you affiliated with Paraponera?”  
  
He chuckled. “Since we’re exchanging pleasantries, I might as well come clean. Yes, I serve our lady to the full extent of my power. In exchange, our great strategist gives me the means to explore my aesthetic, to save beauty itself.”  
  
“Strategist?” Patty parroted, lowering her voice so only the three of them could hear, “There’s someone else other than the princess?”  
  
“Sounds like it, Patty,” Liz replied, “Must be one cold guy to enable a serial killer.”  
  
Kid inwardly agreed. Now, if only there was some way to identify every member in this secret organization. “You there. Your name?”  
  
“Nals Garnier,” he said with such pride it’d humble even Blackstar. Maybe. “Renowned actor reigning from this very opera. Surely, you’ve heard of me.”  
  
“Not once in my life.” As he talked, Kid slowly slid into a battle stance. “While I can understand the pursuit of beauty, seeing as I have devoted myself to balance and symmetry, your ways disgust me. Life itself is beautiful, and you’re robbing people of that right.” At this point, Kid assumed the Stance of Sin. “Nals Garnier, you are perverting the sanctity of death. Prepare to be judged.”  
  
“Very well, Son of Death. Your aesthetic…” Nals assumed his own stance, reminiscent of a classical fencer, and brought the blade to his face so he could lick it with his tongue, “Show it to me now!”   
  
Kid felt hot breath splay across his face. It didn’t take him long to realize Nals had jumped across the space between them in a single step, blade geared back to impale him through the forehead. In the time it took Kid to gasp in shock, he already bent backwards and brought up a gun to abate the blade.   
  
Nals kept up the pressure by jabbing his blade multiple times, but Kid eased into his dodging, growing more and more fluid. He knocked the fencing blade with a pistol and roundhouse-kicked Nals in the gut to create some space. He then held down the triggers, but Nals moved fast enough to make each and every round miss.   
  
Nals retreated into the nests of chairs, making Kid’s bullets toss quite a few aloft. In the confusion, Nals used his speed to get close again.  
  
 _“Got him this time.”_ Kid fired close-range shots, but Nals deflected them. The surprise gave Nals the chance to cut his cheek, bringing the Reaper back to reality. This was no ordinary serial killer or Evil Human. Nals had experience.  
  
Steel met steel, bullets met blade, and sparks flew around the two light-footed fighters.  
  
The dance stopped when Nals knocked back a pistol, forcing Kid to backflip several times to avoid the thrusts of his blade. On the final one, Kid ascended several feet in the air, granting him a full view of the floor, and fired salvos. Nals moved fast enough to become a blur and then lashed out one of his belts like a whip, seizing Kid by his ankle. Kid screamed as Nals swung him into the solid wall two times before throwing him to the floor.   
  
“Perhaps I’ll save even a magnificent creature like you, Grim Reaper!” Kid heard Nals declare as his tumbling came to a stop.   
  
The footsteps drew closer and, when they stopped, Kid swung his leg and tripped him. Acting quickly, Kid got up and drove one pistol into Nals’s back, making him go airborne. He jumped after him and dropped his heel into Nals’s face, sending him back down to the floor with a crash.  
  
Kid performed his coup de grâce: raining down spiritual shots on the prone Nals. The auditorium shook, stone creaked, and smoke plumed. After launching his final assault, Kid landed with his back to the blast site. Looking over his shoulder, he saw a soul floating where Nals was as the smoke thinned out.  
  
“Well, that’s that,” Liz declared, “Good job, Kid. You made quick work of him.”  
  
“I intended to.” Kid walked over to the Evil Soul and stared into its depths. “No idea if Nals Garnier is on Father’s list, but that’s another murderer executed and one less crony for Paraponera.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Maka considered herself lucky her school had so many stairs. Despite being a thin, young teenager, she scoured the whole Notre-Dame de Paris at least a couple of times without strain or lack of breath. That being said, she was growing increasingly irritated. The grand cathedral was empty, and neither she nor Soul spotted any signs of someone being here prior. After entering the nave, she turned on her Soul Perception and found nothing again. She signed, but it sounded more like a growl to her.  
  
“Calm down there, Maka,” Soul said as he approached her, “Maybe Blackstar and Tsubaki found the culprit. Let’s catch up with them.”  
  
Maka closed her eyes to shut off her Soul Perception. “Yeah, I guess you’re—” Just then, a red magical circle formed in the air above the middle of the nave. “Get down!” She shoved Soul behind a pillar and hid behind it with him. Peeking around it, she saw a person materialize in the circle and land on the floor with a thud.  
  
“C-C-Curse that boy!” The giant roared, his voice echoing in the grand nave. “Ruining my peace. We’ll get him soon enough!” He grumbled to himself, shambling forward while dragging a giant bell with him. “I have to hide until it’s time. I-I’m supposed to meet with…” The hunchback fingered his head with his large hand. “Umm…” He made a growling sound before reaching into his pocket. “Good thing milady gave me this book. She and the master are the only ones I care to remember.” He flicked through the pages. “Ah, him. The werewolf. Killbell must meet with him in Orleans.”  
  
Maka’s eyes widened. “Werewolf? No way.”  
  
“Is he talking about that wolfman that used to be with Medusa?” Soul gritted his teeth and began his transformation into a scythe. “Let’s stop wasting time, Maka.”   
  
“Right.” Her scythe in hand, she rushed out and stood some meters away from the giant. “You there!”  
  
Killbell whipped around, almost dropping his belongings. “W-W-What do you think you’re doing trespassing in my home?!”  
  
Narrowing her eyes, Maka dragged one foot back to get into a ready position. “Are you with Paraponera? We’ve come to detain you!”  
  
Killbell’s breathing turned rapid. He raised one arm to cover his eyes. “Q-Quit looking at me with those eyes!”  
  
Maka broke out into a dead sprint and swung. Her scythe failed to penetrate the Evil Human’s hide, but she did knock the book and a weird, glowing cocoon out of his grasp and beyond the pillars. Killbell released an echoic bellow, raising his bell and slamming it, but Maka dodged. “That’s it! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you both! I’ll make you stay out of my way forever!”  
  
Maka tightened her grip around the shaft, inhaling deeply through her nose. “Here we go.”  
  
Killbell ran as fast as his tiny legs could, each step an earthquake that shook the grand nave. Seeing his bell coming, Maka leapt out of the way, doing her best to ignore the loud gong. Killbell turned around and kept up the assault, but his moves were slow and coordinated, granting Maka ample time to evade. After a certain point, she ducked under a high swing and battered the man’s body with her scythe but didn’t leave even a nick on his sweater.  
  
Gritting her teeth, Maka flipped out of the way to create some distance. “He’s tough.”  
  
“Doesn’t look like he’s slowing down either,” Soul remarked as the hunchback rushed like a bull seeing red.  
  
Maka sidestepped a shoulder charge, but Killbell whirled around, forcing her to block his bell. Feeling the shockwave go through her whole body, it was no better than actually being hit, especially when she wound up landing flat on her back on the other side of the room.   
  
“He’s coming, Maka! Get up!” Soul shouted as the floor beneath her trembled, “You’ll get squashed like a bug if you let him!”  
  
Maka sucked in air and rolled to her feet. “I know!”   
  
For all her speed and agility, the number of hits Maka landed meant nothing because Killbell never slowed down, and the one or two hits he managed to land hurt bad.   
  
But she had to end this quick. She had a duty to perform.  
  
Yelling with effort, Maka rushed Killbell. Her first strike was blocked by his hand, but she got close and jabbed the handle into his gut. He swung the bell, forcing Maka to run as he smashed a pillar to bits. The dust and rubble swarmed around her, irritating her eyes and forcing her to close them. Before she knew it, the bell gonged again, and her feet almost caught on fire trying to stop her from hitting the wall after that blow.  
  
Maka forced her eyes open and ran in again. _“Maybe disarming him will work!”_ She outpaced a slam of his bell and sliced at it several times. Nothing. She jumped to avoid another slam and slashed at the bell as she fell. Her follow-up was interrupted when she had to parry Killbell’s next attack. Knock off-balance, Maka was grabbed by Killbell and thrown into the wall. Her spine convulsed in pain as she slid down, but she managed to land firmly on her feet.   
  
No other options.  
  
“Soul Resonance!”  
  
Once her and Soul’s soul linked, her scythe turned into a giant translucent blade. “Witch Hunter!” She ran forward and Killbell met her halfway. His bell clashed with Witch Hunter, and she penetrated the metal. With another yell, she applied all the pressure she could.  
  
She finally pierced his defenses. “Figure Six Hunter!”  
  
She heard the telltale groan of death and, after straightening up, saw the Evil Soul floating where Killbell used to be. Maka let the scythe fall out of her grasp so Soul could turn human again. “Another one bites the dust. Can I eat it?”   
  
“Not sure if he was on Lord Death’s List or not,” Maka said, “so play it safe and wait.” She then walked to where she remembered Killbell’s belongings slid away. “I’m going to confiscate that stuff he had.” All she had to do was follow an almost radioactive glow. Maka gaped at the cocoon that beat incrementally like an open heart. “Soul, come look at this.”  
  
Soul hurried over and his eyes widened slightly. “Whoa. That’s kind of cool.”  
  
Maka scoffed. “Kind of gross is more like it.” Nonetheless, it was now property of the DWMA. She stepped forward and kicked something across the floor by accident. It was the book Killbell read earlier. She picked it up, Soul looking at it over her shoulder, and saw the number of pictures annotated by names. She stopped at a picture of Ponera, more detailed than the sketch at the meeting.  
  
Soul chuckled in excitement. “Looks like we hit the jackpot.”  
  
“No kidding,” Maka replied, still going through it, “I think these are all the members of Paraponera. Lord Death and the others will want to see this.”  
  
Soul walked over to the cocoon and hoisted it onto his shoulders. “And I’m sure Dr. Stein wants to dissect this. Let’s get out of here.”  
  
Once outside, Maka used her phone to contact the rest of her teammates. In no time, all of them gathered around in middle of the square, and all of them gave their report on their findings.  
  
“W-Wait, you so beat that funny-looking dude?” Blackstar questioned Maka in surprise.  
  
Maka nodded. “Not like it came easy.”  
  
Blackstar fell oddly quiet, only for a big grin to spread across his face. “So, you almost lost even though I softened him up. You’re slipping, Maka.”  
  
“Not. Now.” Maka growled warningly, yet that small moment didn’t go unnoticed by her. She hoped it meant nothing.  
  
“Well, we have quite a bit of evidence,” Kid said, “We need to report this to Father personally.”  
  
As everyone walked away, Maka read the book again until she found a picture of someone resembling a werewolf. It wasn’t at all what she expected. _“Alone?”_  
  


* * *

  
  
 _Month 6, Week 3, Day 5 (Friday, June 17th)_  
  
The announcement of Killbell’s death hit Ponera hard. Very hard. She dropped everything on her schedule to personally go to Notre Dame, retrieve his signature bell, bring it back to her lair, and make an impromptu grave for the fallen hunchback. Right now, hugging her plush with tautness, she sat on her knees in front of the bell that acted as Killbell’s tombstone.  
  
“A man driven to kill to survive and find peace,” she muttered prayerfully to herself. She recalled the terrible moments of bloodshed in the endgame of the Period of Destruction perpetuated by her people acting for a righteous cause. Her eyes glowed as she held her doll in a death grip.   
  
_‘The difference between the Paraponera Clan and the Immortal Clan is no more! They might be ending this war, but we aren’t! We shall band together. We will continue to defy those who kill our friends and family!’_   
  
“Killbell, I swear to you, I will win,” she said, “The Kishin born of my plans can affect the universal change I need.”  
  
“We need someone to rendezvous with Alone,” Noah announced without preamble. Ponera turned around to see the man walking in with Gopher. He continued, “He’s still waiting in Orleans to gather all the cocoons and bring them here.”  
  
“Killbell was attacked at his home away from home,” Ponera mused aloud, standing up, “I guess he must’ve forget, but he shouldn’t have. I gave him a book detailing everyth—”  
  
“You did _what_?!”  
  
Ponera flinched, having never heard the eternally cool Noah raise his voice like that. “Killbell was a little forgetful, so I made him a crude little bingo book so he’d remember everyone important in the organization.”  
  
Noah gritted his teeth, approaching Ponera and towering over her. “Suppose he dropped it somewhere an enemy could get their hands on. They’ll know who I am. They’ll know you, Alone, everyone!”  
  
Ponera rid herself of her initial fear, standing with poise befitting a princess. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take for someone who needs the extra help. Besides, Sir Noah, no disrespect, but you took similar risks in sending Killbell, Alone, and Nals on their missions.”  
  
“They weren’t risks. They were carefully calculated moves. Think, Ponera, use that brain of yours.” Noah cupped her chin and forced her to look into those smoky eyes of his. “You’re the head, the princess. Don’t favor one person, favor us all.”   
  
Ponera turned crimson in the face. “Y-Yes, Sir Noah.”  
  
After Noah stepped away to exit, a fuming Gopher sneered. “Hmph! Not so smart after all, are you, little miss—”  
  
Ponera’s navy eyes gained a sinister, bluer hue as she snapped her fingers. Out of nowhere, three monstrously large ants came down and seized Gopher by the limbs. The Demon Tool Soldier screamed as the bugs carried him into the darkness covering the ceiling.   
  
And she left without paying no more heed.   
  


* * *

  
  
Noah freely admitted he underestimated Death Weapon Meister Academy even after expecting their meddling. Attacking when most of their child soldiers were on vacation – EAT or NOT – sounded perfect in theory, but now, he lost two valuable men in Nals and Killbell, and he assumed they got their grimy hands on a Soul Cocoon and that book Ponera talked about. Everything with Alone needed to go smoothly, no questions about it.   
  
Unbothered by abrupt buzzing noises up above, he kept walking even after Gopher fell down, clothes tattered and with a number of bite-related wounds. “M-Master! Why did you let her do that to me?! Your most trusted servant!”  
  
 _“Not this again.”_ Noah said, “You should know better to treat your superiors with respect.”  
  
Gopher shambled to his side. “Master Noah, I’m scared you’re picking favorites. I’ve known you longer than that girl!”  
  
Feeling a headache approaching, Noah chose to offer some of his patience to get his servant to shut up. “What are you talking about? Ponera and this organization are nothing more than a means to an end. I’m well aware of her feelings. After all, I mentored her for a long time, so of course she’s smitten. That’s how I’m able to keep her in my grasp.”  
  
Gopher’s lips formed into a wiggly V. “So, what about me?”  
  
“I don’t need a tool with feelings,” Noah stated, “just one who can produce results. So far, you haven’t acquired me Gurzil, Shango, or the Umbra Sage.”  
  
Gopher nodded rapidly. “I-I’ll get them! I promise!”  
  
Noah broke eye contact. “See to it that you don’t fail again.”  
  
“Yes, sir! I would never think of displeasing you more than once!” Gopher summoned black wings around his wrist and flew off, leaving the strategist alone.   
  
Silence, pure blissful silence. Noah sighed in contentment now he was able to hear himself think. Taking out the Book of Eibon, he flipped to the pages containing all of Eibon’s greatest masterpieces. “Key, the Morality Manipulation Machine, the Eternal Spring, and BREW. Those are the remaining Demon Tools I need.” His infamous grin reformed, eyes glowing with mirth. “Once I have them, neither Eibon nor Death can stop me from collecting _everything_.”  
  


* * *

  
  
When Maka received news Lord Death called a meeting about Paraponera, she dragged Soul out of their apartment and headed to school. She was more motivated than ever to stop evil after the events of the spring semester. With each stride, her mind became clearer, more resolute, as the setting sunlight caressed her skin, promising a new dawn, a new beginning, Maka steeled herself to only think of her future from here on in. A future she would mold, build, direct. She was a girl walking into her own destiny, a destiny that laid squarely in her own hands.  
  
“Yo, Maka!” The Pot Twins jumping on Maka’s shoulder brought her back to reality. She looked to see Kilik approaching him with Soul not too far behind. “Where are you going in such a hurry? Poor Soul was about to run to catch up with you.”   
  
“Hey, Kilik,” she greeted, keeping her embarrassment in check, “Enjoyed your vacation?”  
  
Kilik smiled, slouching in posture like usual. “Yeah. Definitely needed that break.”  
  
Hanging from Maka’s shoulder, Fire moved up and down to steal her attention. “But even though we were on break, we still had to fight this weird, mean guy!”  
  
Soul looked at the young boy. “What do you mean, Fire?”  
  
“It’s a _real_ long story,” Thunder said, “but this one strange guy tried to kidnap a sage to get some power of a god. We had to stop him.”  
  
“My mom convinced me to come back not too long after that,” Kilik added in, “Said it was better we be here to help out.”  
  
“I guess we’re in luck then,” Soul said, putting his hands in his pockets, “Lord Death called a meeting to bring all this information together.”  
  
Kilik looked at him Soul with incredulity written on his face. “There’s more?”  
  
“I guess you don’t know about Paraponera, do you?” Maka said, “Those are our next targets.”  
  
Kilik nodded. “OK. I was on my way to see Kim, but this looks more important.” He walked over and took his child partners away from Maka. “Mind if I tag along?”  
  
“Sure.”  
  
On their way there, they were joined by Kid, Liz, and Patty, and it wasn’t long before they all reached the Death Room. Lord Death stood flanked by Stein and Sid with the familiar bulletin board now containing actual pictures taken from Killbell’s bingo book. Before any talking commenced, Kilik noticed Blackstar’s and Tsubaki’s absence. “Blackstar’s out on a mission?”  
  
“He’s excused,” Sid spoke up, “I can vouch for him. I’ll give him the details so none of you will have to.”  
  
“Won’t be the first time today I’ll have to repeat myself,” Lord Death quipped with a chuckle, “Anyway, good work in France yesterday. We stopped two members of Paraponera and got some decent information on them. We’re that much closing to beating them.”  
  
“Does that mean we’ve discovered their hideout?” Kid asked.  
  
Lord Death scratched his mask. “Eh, no. Not quite. That being said, the key to another step forward is this Alone guy Maka mentioned, and with Stein investigating that cocoon, we may able to learn even more.”  
  
Maka straightened in her spot. “Yes, Killbell talked about meeting a werewolf in Orleans. It’s probably Alone.”   
  
Abruptly, Thunder ran over to the board and pointed at Gopher’s picture while jumping up and down. “That’s the weirdo we saw!”  
  
Kilik examined the picture more closely and snarled. “Oh, that’s him all right.” His gaze drifted to the tan-skinned man wearing a cap. “That must be that ‘Master Noah’ dude he kept harping on about.”  
  
Lord Death titled his body in his signature way. “Hmm. You too, Kilik? Mifune ran into this Noah by proxy too.” He then clapped his hands. “Well! Our game plan is settled then! I’ll send Three-Star Meisters to track down Alone. Meanwhile, we’ll hunt down the others, namely Ponera and Noah, to lighten our load in the coming battles. If we can get our hands on more of these cocoons, we’ll have Stein study them.”   
  
Stein slumped in his chair, twisting his bolt. “Try not to give me too many. I’m still figuring out the first one. Then, I have to see how it reacts to the corrupted soul Kid gave me.”  
  
Kilik scoffed with a chuckle. “You know good and well, Professor, you like doing this.”  
  
Stein’s famously off-putting grin slowly appeared as he eyed the African-Dominican. “I was thinking of using a normal soul too. Mind helping me, Kilik?”  
  
“Okay. Gotta go. Bye!” It took all of one second for Kilik to snatch up his partners and sprint out of the Death Room, leaving a trail of dust and his teacher laughing.   
  


* * *

  
  
Although Tsubaki bore no desire to be in the dojo, Blackstar did, and she understood why. He disliked his performance against Killbell, considering the myriad of strong opponents he fared better against. So, as he beat up a punching bag, she practiced her shuriken-throwing skills. After all, in the rare times his weakness or stupidity disadvantaged her, she had to step up. As her clan was a Legacy Family, she had a reputation to uphold as well as personal fulfillment to achieve.  
  
 _“You could have saved me. There were other options.”_  
  
Tsubaki tensed up, hearing the guilt in the deep recesses speaking to her in the back of her mind. Killing was never easy, especially when it came to family. She shook her head to regain concentration. That was in the past, an irrelevant footnote to her future. After landing yet another series of bulls-eyes, Tsubaki heard a loud bang and turned to see Blackstar sending a bag flying into the wall, breaking it in two. Nothing new to her.   
  
Blackstar placed his hands on his hips and groaned. “Shoot. That’s two already.” He looked her way. “Forget this. Hey, Tsubaki? Enchanted Sword Mode.”  
  
Tsubaki nodded. “That’d make a nice change of pace.”   
  
She transformed into the Enchanted Sword, and Blackstar assumed his usual two-finger pose. His soul swelled in size as black markings appeared all over it, her, and him. He tried to push their resonance rate to higher levels, and she responded in kind.   
  
“I sense doubt in you, boy.”  
  
Before she knew, the two of them were pulled into an endless ocean. Towering above Blackstar was a black and white deer, the Will of the Nakastukasa. _“Why now?”_ Tsubaki wondered, _“What’s going on?”_  
  
Blackstar stared at the ancient being in its golden eyes. “Oh, it’s you again. What do you want?”  
  
“You are being tested by your demons again,” the Will said, “Are you going to stray from the path or stay your course?”  
  
Blackstar grimaced with frustration. “What are you talking about? Does this have to do with those Para-whatever punks? I was listening. This Ponera chick sounds like a copy of Cancer that isn’t as threatening. We’re gonna kick her butt all the same!”  
  
The Will snorted. “No two people are cut from the same cloth. You can’t ignore what you’ve been hearing, Blackstar. Embrace the wise words. Learn. Do not run.”  
  
Tsubaki thought of one person and his speech that the Will may be referring to: Marcellus after the Chicago Gang debacle. _“You see, Blackstar, the world isn’t black and white. Some bad guys have some good hearts, some good guys do bad things, and everything in-between. Sure, Portis and Morgan were criminal leaders, but they sacrificed themselves to make sure I lived to fight another day. There are far worse evils out there. It’s best we focus on that.”  
  
“It has to be that.”_ Tsubaki examined her partner. _“So, what is Blackstar doubting? Himself? Marcellus? What’s going on?”_  
  
Blackstar groused, raking his hand across his blue hair. “Okay, can you leave me alone? I’m trying to get some training in. I didn’t beat that ugly dude because I was weak. Can’t afford to lose anymore here. I’m trying to do some good in this world.”  
  
The Will’s hard gaze lingered on Blackstar for a little while longer. It then turned to her and gave a cryptic nod. The realm started to distort, and before the two of them were sent back to reality, it left one final message, “Don’t forget what I said, boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m taking some real liberties with this arc. I want to adapt the Monotone Princess game as best as I can, but with a lack of information and decent translations, it’s hard to do. I think that’s half the reason the chapters of this arc so far are shorter, and my original content only pad them out so much.
> 
> Oh, well. Keep wishing me luck!


	6. Paraponera Strikes Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the face of their losses, Paraponera decides to up their game. Anything to keep their plan on track.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Soul Eater is copyrighted to Atsushi Okubo and all other third parties (characters, series, and concepts). I and HopeDiamond101 of DeviantArt claim no ownership to it. We do, however, own the original characters and content presented in this story.

**Paraponera Strikes Back**  
  
 _Month 6, Week 4, Day 5 (Friday, June 24th)_  
  
The landscape was every vivid color, every one of them as fresh as a new painting ripe for an art museum. The brilliant land banished every dark thought, and the sky lifted the eye in a way that brought people to admire the drifting white cloud. The trees were deep with late spring foliage, and the flowers rioted in the jubilant way that only the most divine of blooms can. The hills were a patchwork of green made even more varied by the shadows of passing clouds.  Some hills were more shallow than others, but most have steep paths traveling to their summit and then down to the next valley below.  
  
Here, Free and Eruka relaxed under a giant, shady tree as the Mizune Sisters flew around in the open space, playing aerial tag. Ever since the incident on Cobra Island a few months back, the three were nomads. Returning to the Witch Realm was out of the question. Free would go back to prison, and Eruka and the Mizunes would get tried under that extremely unfair court headed by the Witch Judge.   
  
That was fine. After suffering enough defeats and near-death experiences, a little peace was in order. They could not be any happier.   
  
But, Eruka was curious. She knew all about Mizune Family, but nothing about Free and his family. So, she shoved the huge man a little to get his attention and asked, “Hey, Free? What’s the Immortal Clan like?”  
  
Free grunted and stared at the sky to gather his thoughts. Eruka waited patiently, knowing he wasn’t exactly the brightest bulb in the shed. “All over the place,” he said. “It’s not just werewolves, it’s a bunch of different kinds of species, and we all usually keep to ourselves. We’re not like, say, the Legacy Families who keep each other close.”  
  
“Where did the clan come from?”  
  
“Beats me.” He shrugged. “We’re kinda Reapers in that we just are.”  
  
Eruka smiled teasingly. “Not so different after all, huh?”  
  
Free sneered, showing his elongated canines. “Not really. Don’t forget, as far as I’m concerned, my kind was persecuted because our immortality goes against the ‘natural’ cycle of life and earth. Sure, the Immortal Clan does have a few rotten apples, but they don’t spoil the whole tree.”  
  
Thinking she touched a sore spot, Eruka shifted the topic. “Did you have a family?”  
  
“If I did, I don’t know them,” he replied, sitting up. “There was this one other werewolf I knew named Alone, but he was worse than I am.” The Legendary Wolfman sighed and grumbled to himself, fisting his temples. “I kept telling him, if he tried eating souls like some Kishin Egg, he’d lose his immortality. I mean, I know we’re men and have our pride, but even I know better. Don’t know if he listened or not because it’s been centuries since I last saw him.”  
  
By this time, the Mizunes flew back over to them and settled down, having tired themselves out. Eruka looked back out to the panorama of nature, a mere microcosm of the huge world they lived in. _“I wonder what Free means. Were those ‘few rotten apples’ responsible for the persecution being triggered? What other kind of Immortals are out there still around?”_  
  


* * *

  
  
Yet again, Maka and her crew were called to the Death Room for an abrupt meeting. Even though Maka had no reason to complain, she couldn’t help but point it out, if just to liven the mood. “You seem to be calling a lot of meetings recently, Lord Death.”  
  
The God of Death and Order laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his head with his large hand. “Uh, yeah, sorry about that, but this is exceedingly important. A few Three-Star Meisters wound up missing in Orleans, France. These are the same people searching for the city for Alone.”  
  
Kid stared at his father in disbelief. “You don’t think…?”  
  
He nodded. “That’s exactly what I think. They disappeared one-by-one, but their trail is still hot, so now I’m sending a whole group of capable people – namely, you guys – who can also snuff Alone out.”  
  
Blackstar folded his arms behind his head and yawned. “So, you got little miss Human Radar, two Earth Shaman, and your son. What do you need me for?” He could be using this time to gain more strength to take on the leaders behind Paraponera, not the small fries.   
  
“Because, Blackstar, you have the best natural senses!” Lord Death said, hoping that spoke for itself. “That’s invaluable.”  
  
That changed his tune quick. “Okay!"  
  
Footsteps were heard behind them, and they turned to see Sid walking up. The zombie wore the military-style uniform he usually wore on DWMA operations. “I’ll be leading the operation,” he said. “We leave immediately.”  
  
“Yes, sir!”   
  


* * *

  
  
Ponera loved Noah with all her heart, but he said something that offended her. After all she been through, how dare he patronize her like that. She followed her mother and father’s teachings about the combo of a firm hand and caring heart making the best leader. So, now, it was time to prove why _she_ was the princess, time to deploy her a secret trump card no one but her knew of.  
  
Exerting her magic power, Ponera forced a curtain of spider silk to part she could enter her room, a save haven from the droll of the outside world. The walls were a deep red that pulsed in the light, sprinkled with various paintings of Warlocks and Paraponera Clan Witches. Her red and gold queen-sized bed was hidden by the pink curtains hanging on the posts. Beside it sat a whole shelf of both books and rag plushies like she carried now.   
  
And it was so clean she saw her reflection in every, flawless surface. Nothing was out of place either. _“Thought he’d be here.”_  
  
On cue, the head custodian emerged from Ponera’s personal bathroom, hauling equipment. “Oh, Princess,” he said, not at all concerned of the position he was in. “I’m just leaving now, so you can have your privacy.”  
  
“Anel.” Speaking his real name got his complete and total attention. Ponera walked over to him, staring the janitor dead in his eyes. “I need your help with something. Only you can do it.”  
  
“What’s that, milady?”  
  
“The DWMA is getting closer and closer to Alone’s location,” Ponera explained. She narrowed her eyes, causing them to a glow a little bit. “Sir Noah is formulating a plan to get them off his tail, but I have one of my own. Intercept and destroy. That’s all.”  
  
Anel stared back, releasing a sigh that sounded more like a groan. He reached up and removed his dust mask. “All of them?”  
  
Ponera frowned. “You're not having second thoughts, are you?”  
  
“Of course not. This is the only place I can be in the world.”  
  
The Monotone Princess smiled, hugging her doll and swaying a little in her spot. “Then, do an old friend a favor. Just this once, then I promise you can stay out of everything.”  
  
Something flashed beneath the surface of Anel’s hardened expression, and Ponera hurried to investigate the sudden shift. It was too late; the emotion disappeared before she could identify it, and it was tantalizingly brief too. Another sigh as Anel turned his head away. “Fine.”  
  
Ponera grinned, brimming with jubilation. “Great!” Before Anel walked off, she grabbed onto his shoulder. “One second.” She then proceeded to adjust the bandana around his head until it was symmetrical in her eyes. “There. Perfect.”  
  
Anel rolled his eyes and walked off to get ready. Once he left the room, Ponera danced around her, twirling like a ballerina. Phase one of her comeback done. Now for the second and final part. There was another trick up her sleeve Noah didn’t know about either. The soul cocoons were made from familiar’s threads, the plan itself her brainchild. Muttering her chant beneath her breath, she used her doll as a medium to connect with the one of the cocoons taken by the people who fought Killbell.  
  
“Grow and kill them all.”  
  


* * *

  
  
“Th-Thanks for helping me.”  
  
Each arm of Crona’s was merely a taut strap of bone and strained muscle against the weight of the box held in both hands. Although Hiro had more of a physique, his buckets of items threatened to swing into his spindly legs, their momentum almost destroying his. Thankfully, Stein’s home, the Patchwork Laboratory, was in sight.  
  
“Oh, it’s no problem,” Hiro replied with the brightest of smiles. “You looked like you needed a hand. Anything to help a fellow disciple of Master Mifune!”  
  
“Once we reach the front door, you can go,” Crona said as they passed the open front gate. “I have to go in, drop this off, and get something for Ms. Marie.”  
  
Ragnarok released a grunt, reminding the two he was still around. “Which is funny ‘cause what's she doing here anyway? Didn’t the Death Scythes go back to their divisions for the summer?”  
  
Hiro scaled up the small flight of steps and dropped the buckets to the floor in relief. “Well, she’s allowed to visit.”  
  
Crona did the same, close to purring when similar relief washed over the strained muscles. Ragnarok then pointed at the front door. “Check it out. A note.” When his meister walked up closer to it, he snatched it and read it aloud. “Crona, go ahead and come in. It’s unlocked. I stepped out for a short bit.”  
  
Hiro walked over and pushed the door open lightly, gulping nervously as its creaking. “I hope this place isn’t as creepy as rumors say it is…”  
  
Ragnarok grumbled as the two Meisters hauled everything inside. “No kidding.”  
  
The first thing done after setting the stuff aside was to locate the light switch. Hiro did so, and suddenly, the interior of the Patchwork Lab wasn’t as unsettling. “Thank you,” Crona said, looking around the living room for what Marie wanted.  
  
Hiro started towards the door, waving his hand without looking. “I’ll be on my way home then, Crona. See you later—”  
  
A crash rumbled the lab from beneath the house. Crona froze, a sick feeling settling in its stomach as the noise ripped through the quiet house. Halfway out the door, Hiro stood rooted, petrified, and pale. “Um. Crona, was that you?”  
  
Ragnarok let out a grumble. “We heard the same thing, man! Don’t ask such dumb questions—”  
  
Thunder. A giant clap of thunder.  
  
"Okay. That was freaky." Ragnarok let out, somewhat flustered as Crona and Hiro huddled closed to each other. “Did one of his freaky experiments get loose?”   
  
The door to the back was thrown off its hinges. Scuttling in, knocking and destroying furniture, was a large, white, ant-like creature, with strange appendages forming armor around its inner exoskeleton. The creature writhed in pain, letting out unintelligible noises.  
  
Crona tilted its head. “A giant ant?”  
  
“A Gigant.” Hiro said. After a moment, he laughed at his own pun. “Get it? Giant ant? Gigant?”  
  
“Shut up!” Ragnarok demanded. “Your joke sucked!”   
  
The pale ant, in a moment of clarity, checked itself and a deranged noise escaped it. “M-m…milady!” The human voice struggled to hold on to its sanity. “Why?!... W… Why have you…! I wanted to be… beautiful… Why put me… in here?!”  
  
"It’s lost its mind. Therefore, game time," Ragnarok commented, morphing to sword form in Crona's hand.  
  
Grasping the hilt with one hand, while rubbing one arm nervously with the other, Crona looked up at the creature. "Could you please stop wrecking Professor Stein’s house?"  
  
“Yeah, before he blames us and we get dissected!” Hiro shrieked, withdrawing the rapier Mifune gave him.   
  
The Gigant growled, throwing away the last vestiges of humanity, and charged. Hiro ran to the side while Crona backpedaled, hoping to draw the ant creature closer. Once Gigant raised its appendage, Crona cried out, “Screech Gamma!” After Ragnarok’s blade grew in width, length, and depth, Crona clashed with Gigant, but the ant was faster, attacking from all sides and challenging the swordsman’s reflexes.  
  
Hiro hustled over, spotting a weak point in Gigant’s exoskeleton and jammed his rapier into it, but it was a mere nuisance. Gigant tore its attention from Crona and swatted the blonde into some furniture.  
  
But a distraction was a distraction. "Screech Alpha!" A purple burst of energy shot forth, knocking the Gigant back a few feet. Then, it combined its appendages, transformed into a perfect cone, and began spinning.  
  
Before Crona could react, Gigant connected, slicing through skin and sending it hurtling into another wall. A moment of dizziness passed as Crona pushed up with one arm, aware of the blood leaking from the fresh wound. Meanwhile, Hiro ran around the room in desperation to avoid being shredded to ribbons.  
  
Crona acted quickly to save him. “G-Go, Bloody Needles!” The Black Blood on the floor shot forward as needles, puncturing the Gigant's armor and holding it in place, stopping its spinning completely.  
  
Wearing a haughty smirk, Hiro rushed over. “You’re mine now!” With a jump, he then drove the rapier between the eyes of Gigant. The rampaging ant shivered and convulsed, going through its death throes, before growing limp on the black needles. Hiro pulled his rapier out and landed on his feet. “Hey, look, my first kill!”  
  
Ragnarok turned back to normal. “After _we_ did most of the work!”   
  
Crona stood up, checking for injuries. The Black Blood already sealed up the wounds and healed them. While relieved, that still left a mark on Crona’s confidence. “Oh, man, I used the Black Blood.”  
  
Ragnarok poked Crona in the head. “Priorities, Crona. Life-death situation. You’ll get it.” He then spotted Hiro standing there, twitching like a jittery fool and pointing somewhere like he saw a cryptid or something. “What’s with you—”  
  
“Hello there.”  
  
Now, it was Crona and Ragnarok’s turn to be stupefied with fear. Slowly, Crona turned around to see Stein at the still open doorway with his glasses shining in the light. Stein stood there, chillingly calm, as he examined the damages done to his home before looking at the two Meisters. “So. What did I miss?”  
  


* * *

  
  
 _  
  
A young boy wearing a tribal-patterned tunic, one that could be mistaken for a dress, entered the classroom in the Witch School of Magic and Arts. His escort, the teacher, peeled away from his side and whistled to capture all the young Witches’ attention.  
  
All the young female Witches’ attention.   
  
He approached the round table and sat in the only available chair.   
  
“Him again.”  
  
“Just move and ignore him.”  
  
Everyone there immediately moved to be elsewhere, leaving him alone. Wouldn’t be the first or the last time – he was more than used to it. It didn’t help quite a most of the class was older than him, yet he performed better than them.  
  
The lesson went on without a hitch, and he paid attention diligently and did work as told. When the teacher left to talk to another Witch, he passed the time by working on a picture he started on the other day. The tone of the painting was muted, the style reminiscent of Monet. Each stroke had a smudging quality that rendered the image watery like a reflection in a rippled puddle. The scene was a street with the umbrella-bearing pedestrians battling against rain as the red double-deckers and black cabs rumbled by.  
  
Suddenly, a shadow casted over him, and he looked up from putting the finishing touches on his masterpiece to see three Witches hovering above him. “May I help you?” He asked in a polite tone.  
  
“Look, boy, I don’t know if anyone’s told you, but here’s your place: you don’t belong.”   
  
“We can accept female Warlocks, but male Witches? Curse fate for ruining your life at conception.”   
  
“Witches are a proud race of Amazons. We don’t need a thing like you blighting our history.” That one snatched his notebook. He tried to reach for it, but the others held him at bay, and no one around helped him. “No matter how gifted you are, you’ll never be better than the genuine article.”  
  
Then, she burned his whole collection of art with a single spell.  
  
_  
  
Anel changed the bandana around his lush, reddish hair and then opened up his wardrobe, revealing combat attire. Even though he got them just in case, he held utmost faith in Paraponera’s agenda.   
  
His gaze fell to the floor. “Is there even a point to me…?” Pursing his lips, he shook his head. “No, direct orders.” Settling his mind on the task, in no time flat, he changed clothing, conjured a portal, and arrived at the rendezvous point. It seemed destiny was for all Witches to fight the Academy, and today would be no exception for a pacifist like him.   
  
If the World of Magic refused him as a man, and the Human World shunned him as a Witch, Paraponera was his only place in life.  
  
This was his fate now, for he deemed a lifetime of peaceful servitude better than one of harsh freedom.  
  
Anel lifted one hand to the beads around his neck and whispered, “My friends, lend me strength once again.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Month 6, Week 4, Day 6 (Saturday, June 25th)  
  
Nighttime in Orleans, France. A summer night luminous with star and moonlight, Team Maka, Kilik, and Sid strolled through the inky darkness with the city lights being their only shield. All of them remained quiet, focused on their mission.  
  
“Yahoo!” And, like always, Blackstar was the first to liven things up. He jumped over the group and stood atop a street pole, jabbing a thumb at himself. “Blackstar is the house, ready to rumble! All right, bad guys, show yourselves and take your beating like a man!”   
  
As they walked, Liz cowered behind her younger sister, blue in the face. “Okay, creepy werewolf, pretty girls here. C-Come and get us.”  
  
Soul chuckled to himself. “What a pain this is gonna be. Let's get this over with. We got bigger fish to fry.”  
  
“I agree,” Sid said as they encountered a fork in the road. He turned around, making everyone stop. “We’ll proceed separately, surprise them. Let me handle the rest. Is that fine for you guys?   
  
A worried Tsubaki studied the surroundings. “But, just wandering around, patrolling, can we find Alone?”    
  
“Didn’t you hear what Lord Death said?” Sid said, not unkindly. “This is the best group for the job. Those Three-Star Meisters left behind a way to get to this guy. Their deaths won’t be in vain.”  
  
Maka’s expression hardened with determination. “Right. Soul!”   
  
Soul transformed into his weapon form, and the others followed his lead, gearing up their Mesiters for the hunt.   
  
Sid grinned. “Here’s the game plan.” He showed them a map of Orleans with markings made by him. Maka and Kilik were to go one way while Blackstar and Kid went another. Once he finished debriefing, he put it away. “Got it? Be careful and don't lose your life.”  
  
Kid nodded and faced east. “It’s this way for us then.”  
  
Kilik pounded his gauntlets together and turned to west. “Let’s ride, Maka.”   
  
Kid and Blackstar sprinted with the former leading the way, having memorized the pathway best. Their destination was Cathedral of Sainte-Croix, but Sid had them cutting through the George V Bridge to get there.   
  
Once the boys arrived, they found someone waiting for them.  
  
A young man sat in the middle of the road, one leg propped up and an arm draped over its knee. A jacket exposed his well-refined musculature and a necklace of red prayer beads. For bottoms, he wore brownish-orange hakama-like pants secured by several red cords. A holster held an ornate staff among these fastenings. Lastly, he wore sandals. His bored-looking eyes watched them as he chewed on a stick of bamboo.  
  
He slowly stood up. “Good evening, all.”  
  
Kid narrowed his eyes and turned on his Soul Perception to get of an idea of this person. “Magic… A purple soul?” His eyes slowly widened. “What? But you’re… male.”  
  
“That is correct,” he replied unconcernedly, taking out the bamboo and putting it away. “Are you here to stop Alone?”  
  
Blackstar stepped forth, eyes forming a glare. “And if we are?”  
  
“Then, you must understand the reason why I am here.” He reached over his shoulder and grabbed the staff. It phased through the holster, and he held it out front. “The princess decreed your meddling has necessitated the strictest sanctions.”  
  
This prompted Tsubaki, Liz, and Patty to assume weapon forms. “Okay,” Liz said as Kid and Blackstar prepared themselves. “I took a good long at that book, and I don’t remember seeing him. I would’ve remembered those abs.”  
  
Tsubaki’s reflection appeared on the Enchanted Sword. “What is your name?”  
  
His dull eyes glanced at her. Right when his lack of response could be viewed as refusal to speak, he said, “I guess there’s no point keeping quiet. I’m here now. If you must know, I am Anel Ying Panderson. Summoning Mage. Professional cleaner.”   
  
Blackstar grinned. “Nice to meet you, Anel. I’m Blackstar. We’re here to kick your ass. You can do one of two things: give up or beg for mercy when you’re beat.”  
  
“May I pick a third option and say neither?” Anel asked dryly.   
  
“Hey! No fair!" Blackstar shouted in comedic anger.  
  
Kid chose this time to act. He unleashed several shots from his pistols, aimed at Anel’s head, heart, stomach, and diaphragm. A blur passed Anel, the shots exploding and forming a cloud of smoke. When it dispersed, a giant panda towered over Anel like a guardian angel. Sharp teeth bared, it growled and glared at Kid and Blackstar with glowing, fierce red eyes.   
  
“Say hello to Mo,” Anel said. “My main Summon.”  
  
Blackstar grinned, rolling his neck. “The bigger they are, the harder they fall! We’ll take you both out!”  
  
Mo’s eyes bugged out for a second before its face went taut with rage, releasing a bestial roar that shook the bridge itself. Anel sighed. “Hey. Mo is very sensitive about her size. Please don’t be rude.”  
  
Crossing the space between in a flash, Kid tried to strike while Blackstar distracted Anel with idle chatter. Mo, however, reacted with equal quickness, shoving Anel out of the way and accepting Kid’s pistol whip to her bulky body. Gritting his teeth, Kid jumped back to avoid a slam of her paw that cracked the stone on impact. Meanwhile, Anel turned his tumbling into a controlled roll and jumped back to his feet.   
  
“Thank you, Mo,” he said. The magical panda responded with a soft low.   
  
“My turn!” Blackstar zipped forward, but his exclamation alerted Anel to his presence. The Summoning Mage raised his staff, facial features tightening as he focused on the blue-haired teen in front. Blackstar used his speed to suddenly circle around, but the talented Anel knew a feint when he saw it.  
  
Their eyes met, and Blackstar suddenly lunged forward, swinging his Enchanted Sword towards his head. Anel blocked it way. Then, Blackstar circled around again. This time, Anel responded with whirling around again and bringing up his staff once more, but the assassin blocked it with ease, not missing a beat.  
  
Anel tried to jump back, but Blackstar latched one hand onto his wrist, dragging him in as close as she can. Anel tried to jerk back, and surprisingly, Blackstar let go, causing the male Witch to stumble backwards and slip, falling down ungracefully.   
  
“Gotcha now!” Blackstar declared, summoning a massive amount of soul energy into one of his palms. “World Destruction Cannon!”   
  
He drove the enhanced Soul Force into Anel, cratering the ground behind them and wresting a yell from the otherwise quiet Summoning Mage. This, in turn, stole Mo’s attention from Kid as she dueled with him.  
  
"Let’s go, Soul Resonance!" Kid and his partners’ souls merged into one. Three spikes grew on either side of Kid's shoulders and his guns transformed into huge cannons. He aimed them at the panda and shot a huge beam of soul power. “Death Cannon!”  
  
The blast rammed into Mo with the force of a speeding freight train, sending the panda skidding across the stone and leaving deep skids in her attempts to stand her ground. She eventually caught herself and flung into the direction of her master, driving her shoulder into Blackstar to knock him away.   
  
Liz gritted her teeth, seeing that. “That is one tough bear.”   
  
Anel got up and wiped his mouth of the blood. “Thank you, Mo.” He caught Kid aiming his cannons at them as well as Blackstar coming back for more. “Return.”  
  
As he leapt off to the side, the end of Anel’s summoning staff glowed gold, compelling Mo to dematerialize into a perfect red orb. The Death Cannon meant for her instead soared right to Blackstar, forcing him to back away to avert friendly fire and giving Anel even more time to create some distance. The red orb solidified and joined the others around his neck.   
  
Kid shut off Execution Mode, deeming it useless for the current situation. “So, a Summoning Mage. Careful, Blackstar, we can’t gauge how many friends he’ll bring.”  
  
“Well, for the sake of fairness, I could summon four,” Anel said, resting the staff on one shoulder. “That’d make it five-against-five.”  
  
Blackstar narrowed his eyes. “There's only two of us.”  
  
“I counted your partners,” Anel replied. “I take treat my Summons equally, so I was under the impression Meisters did the same with their Weapons. Am I wrong?”  
  
Titters sputtered out of an amused Patty. “Is this guy for real?”  
  
“Hey, gotta give him some credit,” Liz said. “Better than most of the jerks we fight. Hotter too.”  
  
“Ladies, please focus.” Kid watched as two more red beads floated off Anel’s necklace and circled the head of his staff. “He’s summoning.”  
  
“Panda panda ailuropoda melanoleuca panda panda.” After finishing his incantation, he declared, “Fenghuang, Kirin, come to me.”  
  
One bead burst into a swirl of flames while the other a flash of light. The elements coalesced into two figures that situated themselves behind their master. The one on Anel’s left was an equine, magical monster with light-colored barbs, plates, and horn. The summoned creature on his right was a majestic, red and orange bird with plumage made of fire.   
  
With a simple motion of the hand, Anel commanded, “Go.”  
  
Kirin darted forth as a stream of light and nailed Blackstar with a hoof. Fenghuang was equally fast, snatching Kid off the ground and heading to the sky. As Kid dealt with getting out of the bird’s grip and the flames surrounding them, Blackstar struggled to stop the fast-moving horse.  
  
Every time Blackstar tried to get up and stand his ground, Kirin moved as a literal flash of light and knocked him around as if he were a pinball. “Tsu-Tsubaki!” He shouted after barely parrying Kirin’s horn even though the sheer force still sent him tumbling. “Severed Shadow! We’ll fight speed with speed!”  
  
“Right!”   
  
Shadows gathered around Tsubaki's weapon form, transforming into a large black kunai-style dagger with white ornate patterns and a long strap of cloth tied to it. Light clouded Blackstar's vision, and he reacted on instinct. Kirin went in to squash him like a bug, but the stomp missed.  
  
"Shadow☆Star: Third Form – Severed Shadow."  
  
Blackstar appeared in Kirin’s face and delivered an uppercut. Then, two more versions of him appeared at its flank and delivered powerful blows of their own. The horse of light regained its bearings and resumed its assault, knocking away two images in a single dash, but the rest of the shadow clones wrought by Blackstar’s pure speed slashed its side, wresting a piercing neigh of pain.  
  
Up in the sky, Kid now maneuvered around Fenghuang using Beelzebub, holding down the triggers and forcing the giant, fiery bird to spend time defending and chasing as opposed to incinerating him. With one wingbeat, Fenghuang did gain enough space and launched streams of flaming feathers from its wings.   
  
Kid charged forward. “Death Slide!” He strode past them using his skill with a skateboard and, once through, he blasted Fenghuang in its eyes, forcing the bird to caw and writhe in pain. Kid flew over its head as it recovered and jumped, raising his heel. “Down you go!” With a single leg drop, Fenghuang plummeted back to the bridge.   
  
Anel put two fingers in his mouth and whistled, getting his Summons’ attention despite their wounds. “Return!” Both of them dissolved into prayer beads that returned around his neck.   
  
Blackstar and Kid regrouped as well, back to square one with Anel but feeling as if victory was getting closer. “Just back down,” Kid said. “I can’t understand why you’d have the desire to protect a murderer.”  
  
“Desires?” Anel jabbed his staff into the stone and casually leaned on it, gazing at the starry night sky. “Don’t really have much of those nowadays, but I suppose unflinchingly serving Paraponera counts, I hope. Much like how you lot serve Lord Death.” He stared back at them, dull eyes slightly more hardened with determination. “Milady told me to intercept you, so that is what I must do.”  
  
Blackstar gritted his teeth, taking an aggressive step forward as he held up Severed Shadow. “Difference is we actually work for the good guys. What you’re doing makes no sense!”  
  
“Ask yourself this,” Anel replied, “is there such a thing as a truly evil person? Or are there just evil acts and whether or not the person is forgivable? For example, the Witches who hated and ostracized me were unforgivable but not evil. So, really, what I have done that’s so reprehensible?”  
  
His brain started to hurt trying to wrap his head around Anel’s philosophical discussion, and it was making Blackstar angrier by the second. “You’re in the way.”  
  
“And you’re in _my_ way, so does that make _you_ evil?”   
  
He was mocking them, looking down on them. He had to be. This stupid Summoner had the gull, the nerve, to insult everything the DWMA stood for and twist it around. Forget his loyalty, he was still an enemy to be taken out. Fueled by frustration, Blackstar broke out into a dead sprint. “ _Shut up_!”   
  
“Gonggong!”  
  
Water exploded into a mushroom cloud on one side of the bridge, and something shot out to intercept Blackstar on his way to Anel. It arched so elegantly, at first glance, it seemed serene and peaceful, but underneath the surface were violent currents that would whisk away anyone who dared touch it, and Blackstar was the next target. It drove into the assassin, and his screams were swallowed by the water as the arch completed its course, bringing out yet another explosion on the other side.  
  
“Blackstar!” Kid, Liz, and Patty shouted in concern. Before anyone could move, something else beat them to it. A giant, draconic sea serpent with a line of red fins going down its back flew out. Using its tail, Gonggong gently laid Blackstar down and headed to its master’s side.   
  
Now safe, Tsubaki transformed back into a human form as Kid ran over. “Blackstar! Blackstar, get up!” She pled, shaking the Star Clan boy in a desperate attempt to stir him, but he was out cold.  
  
Anel sighed ruefully before focusing his undivided attention on Kid. “I’ll make this quick. I call thee as well, Lei Gong!” Saying his chant, he summoned a fearsome creature in a bolt of lightning. It had lightly glowing, blue skin with bulging muscles and armor only covering the essentials. Armed with an actual lightning bolt for a weapon, Lei Gong also had claws, bat wings, and a face with a bird's beak.  
  
“Keep him safe, Tsubaki,” Kid said, returning to his original spot to keep them out of danger.   
  
“Kid, w-what are we going to do?” Liz stared at the two summoned monsters looming menacingly above Anel. “Blackstar’s out, and we’ve got two behemoths staring us down like they want to eat us!”  
  
Despite the dire situation, Kid remained calm. “Easily remedied.” He examined Anel’s posture. He wasn’t as relaxed as before, sweat drippled down his face, and his chest heaved in continuous intervals. The Son of Death smirked. “Out of breath already, I see. I, on the other hand, am just getting started, Anel Ying Panderson!” Tapping into power he unlocked back on Cobra Island, one of Kid’s Lines of Sanzu glowed white and connected.    
  
Anel braced himself against the sudden rush of wind. “What’s going on?”   
  
“I’ve figured you out already, Summoner,” Kid stated as his soul swelled in size. “You waste magic energy keeping your monsters out. And engaging in direct combat drains your energy even more!” His soul disappeared around him. “Now, what was that about making it five-on-five? I think you were bluffing.”   
  
Anel narrowed his eyes. “Get him.”  
  
Lei Gong and Gonggong darted with the speed of a bullet.  
  
“First Line of Sanzu: Release!” Kid released a pulse of power from his line in a limited radius. A mere distraction to stop the two behemoths from surrounding him. In the brief moment they were stunned, Kid crossed the space between himself and Anel and jammed one of his pistols into his gut.   
  
Anel gnashed his teeth together, body forced to hunch over from the strength of the Shinigami’s blow. He gripped his staff tighter and swung with all his might, but Kid dodged. The Summoning Mage kept at it but continued to have his moves blocked or evaded. Yet, he left no more blind spots open for Kid to exploit even with his boost in power.   
  
The male Witch jumped back and Kid raised his guns to fire until Patty yelled, “One of ‘em is coming, Kid!”   
  
Lei Gong roared as it dragged its sword across the ground, brimming with static electricity.   
  
“Death Arm Blocking!” Kid created skull shields on his forearms and raised them. Lei Gong swung, and although the shields protected Kid, they shattered on impact, and he skidded backwards from the remaining force.  
  
Gonggong flew in next, shooting a beam of concentrated water, forcing Kid to run away. The sea serpent followed his path, cutting a fine pattern into the stone. Lei Gong joined in assault, shooting lightning in hopes of hitting the spry Grim Reaper.  
  
“You’re pretty light on your feet, Reaper,” Anel complimented.   
  
“Go, Smoke Bomb Mode!”  
  
The smell of smoke drifted out into the open as strongly as incense, the briefest of warnings before a thick, dark brown cloud shrouded the whole battleground. Lei Gong and Gonggong, losing sight of their target, were forced to stop and hover above the smokescreen show to get a better view.  
  
Kid, meanwhile, was pleased with this turn of events. “Much appreciated, Tsubaki!” Using his Soul Perception, he detected the locations of Anel and his Summons. First, he had to deal with the monsters. Holding his hands arm, he summoned shadowy skulls. “Death Claw!” The claw-shaped skulls travelled in zigzag patterns and latched onto Lei Gong and Gonggong. With his all might, Kid dragged them back to Earth, slamming them with enough power to rock the George V Bridge.  
  
When the smoke dissipated, Kid suddenly felt something pierce his back, igniting the sensitive pain receptors as cold metal broke skin. Kid released a scream as Anel hoisted him above ahead and threw him back over to his monsters, who recovered enough to shoot predatory glares. “Render him unconscious.”  
  
“No you don’t!” Tsubaki took out spare throwing stars and hurled them at the monsters' faces. They easily swatted them away as expected, but it was another momentary distraction that worked in Kid’s favor.   
  
“Soul Resonance! Death Cannon!” It was the quickest one the three ever did. Two giant blasts scored direct hits, stunning them some more.  
  
Anel gritted his teeth. “Time to bring out a third one.” He started his chant, but a rush of footsteps silenced him. Swinging his staff, he blocked two ninja swords and stared Tsubaki back dead in her eyes.  
  
“I’ve been watching you too. I think I can handle you.” She offered a shy smile. “Sorry to do this.”  
  
He sneered in response. “Gutsy, aren’t you?”  
  
Quickly, before Anel could respond with a follow-up, Tsubaki swiftly brought her knee up his solar plexus, knocking the wind out of the male witch and stunning him for a brief moment. The quick blow had opened Anel up for another attack and Tsubaki obliged him, putting a simple sidekick into the young man’s stomach, doubling him over.   
  
Tsubaki followed that up by swinging her two ninja swords, but the threat of oncoming steel prompted Anel to block them or else shed blood. Pushing her back but still losing steam, Anel swung a telegraphed attack. Tsubaki sidestepped it and responded with a roundhouse kick to his temple, forcing the dazed witch to stagger backwards.   
  
Tsubaki wanted to drive her swords into him if it meant submission, but she caught a surge of water in her peripheral vision. She back-flipped several times to avoid getting sliced apart by the cover fire of Gonggong, who floated near Anel and left Lei Gong to fight Kid one-on-one.   
  
By now, Anel was wheezing and using his own weapon as a crutch to keep himself on his feet. “H-How much… longer do I have to hold the line?” On cue, he felt something crawling on his arm. He recognized it as one of Ponera’s many familiars, and it chattered something in a language only he understood. Anel breathed a long sigh of relief. “Right on schedule. Lei Gong, return! Gonggong, take us home before I’m missed.”  
  
Lei Gong vanished, and Gonggong whipped up a swirl of water around itself and Anel. When it disappeared, they were long gone.  
  
“He left on his own,” Tsubaki in a grim tone as Kid walked up.   
  
Liz looked on ahead. “D-Does that mean we’re too late now?”  
  
Kid gripped his pistols tighter. _“I hope not. Maka, Mr. Barett, please get that werewolf.”_  
  


* * *

  
  
As he walked through the lower-level passages of their base, Noah’s trademark grin was wider than ever. He wasn’t sure how Alone did it, but the werewolf managed to send back all the Soul Cocoons he made, and plenty of them. Now, even if Alone fell to the Reaper’s cronies, everything was back on track. It wouldn’t be long before Ponera could enact the creation of a Kishin with the Soul Cocoons. _“Just have to check with one more person. We can begin, and then… everything will be mine!”_  
  
But something stopped him cold, something he never expected to be in one of the deepest parts of the base: the janitor, lugging around a pail of dirty water and mop tipped with blood. Anel stared at Noah in the eyes as he asked innocently, “Does Her Highness know about this?”  
  
Although he frowned, Noah kept his cool. “She does. Why does it matter to you?”  
  
“Cleaning up bloodstains is hard,” Anel replied, adjusting his items to get the point across. “I followed a trail. Couldn’t stop myself.”  
  
“Rest assured, with our numbers going down the drain, I had to make ends meet,” Noah explained. “It’s for the good of the organization.”  
  
“All right. Sorry if I overstepped any boundaries.”  
  
As he walked by, Noah caught Anel limping slightly, a combat injury if he ever saw one. Brow furrowed, he questioned, “Are you hurt?”  
  
Anel waved away the issue. “Oh, I tweaked my knee. Polished a bathroom floor so well I slipped. Has nothing to do with what I saw.”  
  
Noah hummed in contemplation as he continued on his path. He had to trust the janitor not to say anything, but given his generally dispassionate nature, he might not. For now, Noah focused on something that irritated him more. _“I see Katarina couldn’t clean up after herself.”_   
  
He kept going, reaching the seal to the chamber of interest. Mumbling a spell, Noah opened and continued. The temperature dropped as he entered the massive underground cavern, and that would send a violent chill down the spines of lesser beings. Light reached neither wall nor ceiling, confining vision to a small circle of flickering orange cast by the torch. Inky black water sloshed against a narrow strip of land that disappeared into the darkness before Noah, and jagged teeth of stone hung above.  
  
Noah almost tripped on something. He groaned. It was a good thing Anel stopped after a certain point; he’d been here picking up skeletons for a whole week.   
  
He had to had kick skulls and bones out of his way, the decayed matter so weak and old they turned to ash hitting the walls. Out of nowhere, screaming tore through like a shard of glass. “I have arrived.” He followed the sounds to a much more well-lit area of the chamber.  
  
Male Paraponera soldiers lay on the ground, faces closed in a grimace, skin pale and clammy. Every few minutes, they would scream like people being tortured. It had a raw quality, the realness of a person consumed by a pain that knew no end or limit. During the time there was no screaming, in their intense silence, the soldiers instead somehow screamed with their bodies. Eyes wide with horror, the mouth rigid and open, chalky face gaunt and immobile, the fists clenched with blanched knuckles, and the nails digging into the palms.  
  
And their souls hovered inches above their convulsing body. Even in death, their pain and suffering came with them to the great beyond.  
  
And the one behind it all savored their agony like a delicacy. She had fair skin, brown eyes and long, dirty blonde hair, beauty completely betrayed by the deep, dark circles surrounding her eyes in the form of shadows, giving her a sinister, skull-like appearance. She wore a tattered, bloodstained gold and white lace dress with floral patterns.  
  
At that point, Noah noticed a male human restrained at her feet, shivering and in tears. “P-Please… kill me already…”  
  
The woman smirked, showing animalistic teeth. “In a minute.” From underneath her dress, a large scorpion-like stinger came out and she plunged it into the man’s stomach. He screamed worse than all three of the soldiers combined, and the woman had every intention of drawing out his suffering for as long as possible.   
  
“I don’t mind you and your methods,” Noah calmly spoke over the noise, “but do you mind doing them where no one see? I had to lie to get you out of suspicion.”  
  
Katarina glared at Noah with glowing eyes. “I don’t take orders from you. The princess wants souls, and I’m getting them.”  
  
He responded by exerting his power a little, making her cringe. “Don’t forget, Katarina, _I_ found and recruited you.”  
  
She glimpsed down at the man now experiencing a seizure and, with a sigh, drove her boot into his skull, splattering blood and viscera. “I only joined when I discovered Ponera to be at the helm.”  
  
“Well, she wants to know how you’re coming,” he lied.   
  
Katarina stood from her rocking chair. “I’m going back to Sleepy Hollow tomorrow. When I come back, she can begin.”  
  
Noah’s grinned return full force. “Perfect. We look forward to your arrival tomorrow!”  
  
“Yeah…” She used her stringer to grab all four souls. “I’m sure you do.”  
  
She shoved them down her throat, giving her power needed to hunt for some more.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: Noah and Grimoire are actually two different characters despite their resemblance. Okubo liked Grimoire's appearance and used it for Noah in the manga.
> 
> But me? I'm combining the two characters into one. It'd be a waste not to.


End file.
